Lesbian Emily Prentiss - Tumblr Posts
The most unrealistic thing I’ve seen in criminal minds yet is Emily Prentiss waking up in bed next to a man. That woman is GAY! A LESBIAN! A HOMOSEXUAL!
My criminal minds sexuality headcanons (for the characters I’ve met so far)
Emily and Spencer’s lawyer definitely had a thing going on at some point
Y’all send me fic requests! Angst, fluff, smut! Anything! I want to write but don’t have any ideas!
It's A Beautiful Thing
summary: Emily struggles to come to terms with her sexuality and goes to Tara for help after a disastrous hookup
genre: hurt/comfort
cw: internalized homophobia, comp het (compulsory heterosexuality), implied/referenced sexual assault (NOTHING HAPPENS it's just assumed that it did), religious trauma, religious guilt, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abortion, using sex as a coping mechanism, unhealthy relationships to sex, Jemily mentions, coming out, unrequited love (or at least it's believed to be)
wordcount: 1.9k
Emily sits on the corner of the bed and sighs as she pulls her pants back on. Her whole body feels wrong and she wants to leave. She looks over at the door to the ensuite bathroom and listens to the sound of the shower running. She shouldn’t leave while he’s still in the shower. That would be cruel. It’s not like he was bad or did anything she didn’t want, it just didn’t feel right.
She picks her bra off the floor and looks around for the first time as she clasps it behind her back. The whole room is painfully male. She hates it. And she hates that she hates it.
Emily closes her eyes and runs her fingers through her hair to detangle it as best as possible. Her chest feels tight and she leans forward, burying her face in her hands and tucking her head between her knees. The sound of the shower feels like it’s drilling into her skull and the smell of sex that surrounds her makes her feel sick.
She presses her hand over her mouth and chokes on a small sob. She needs to leave, she needs to get out of here. She lifts her head and takes a deep breath before picking up her shirt and pulling it over her head. She then grabs her purse from where she’d discarded it in the corner of the room and pulls out her phone.
An idea strikes her and she slips her phone into her pocket before knocking on the bathroom door. “Jackson?” Emily calls out, keeping her voice steady with practiced ease despite feeling like she’s about to implode.
The water shuts off. “Yeah?” he calls back.
Emily squeezes her eyes shut for a moment before speaking. “I’m so sorry. I have to go. I just got a call from work.”
“Yeah, yeah, you should go,” Jackson says sounding surprisingly okay at the thought of her leaving. “Go kick some ass.”
Emily opens her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I will. I’ll call you,” she lies.
“Yeah! Yeah! Just lock the door on the way out, you can do it from the inside.” There’s silence for a moment before the shower turns back on. Almost immediately, Emily rushes out of the room and out of Jackson’s apartment, making sure to lock the door.
She takes the stairs instead of the elevator, unable to stand the thought of standing still for a moment longer than necessary. After five floors she makes it to the basement level parking lot and she thanks her past self for not drinking because her car is here and that means she can leave now.
Emily unlocks her car and throws her purse into the passenger seat not caring that it immediately slides to the floor. She climbs inside and closes the door behind her before slamming the heels of her palms against the steering wheel.
“Fuck!” she cries, curling her hands into her hair. She feels like she’s about to explode. Everything is so wrong and she doesn’t know how to fix it. Sex with Jackson was supposed to fix it but that just made it worse and now she feels gross and dirty through no fault of his. A strangled scream tears its way up her throat. Why does she have to be like this? Why can’t she just be normal? Why can’t she just have sex with men and enjoy it?
Tears pool in her eyes and Emily angrily swipes them away. She needs to leave, to get far away from this stupid apartment complex. She starts the car and it takes nearly all of her self-control not to tear out of the parking lot. She’s already distracted, adding speeding on top of that would be a recipe for disaster. She needs to talk to someone. She wants to talk to JJ but she won’t understand and Will and the boys will be there and she just can’t.
Emily parks along the edge of the road and pulls out her phone, opening her texts with Tara. She stares at the screen for a moment before typing, “Can I come over?” and hitting send. Emily closes her eyes and tries to calm herself while she waits for Tara’s reply. Her hands squeeze a white-knuckled grip on her steering wheel and each breath rattles in her chest.
Her phone buzzes in her hand and she looks down.
“Come on over.”
Emily shuts her phone off and drops it into the cup holder between the seats. She wipes away the tears that had managed to fall and, checking to see if the road is clear, does a U-turn and drives toward Tara’s house.
The turmoil Emily is experiencing makes the drive feel simultaneously seconds and hours long. She turns onto Tara’s street and parks along the curb in front of her house. She leaves her purse in the car, only grabbing her phone and keys, before climbing out and walking up the steps to Tara’s front door, locking her car behind her.
The closer she gets to the door the more panicked and ashamed she feels and by the time she knocks, she’s barely holding it together. The door swings open and Tara takes in her appearance with wide eyes and clear concern. Emily opens her mouth to speak but all that comes out is a choked sob. Tara pulls her into a hug and Emily nearly collapses in her arms.
They stand there for a while, Emily sobbing into Tara’s shoulder, as they stand on the threshold of her house. Eventually, Emily’s crying subsides and Tara leads her inside with a hand around her waist, closing the door behind them. Tara guides Emily into the living room and onto the couch, keeping her arm around her.
Emily leans forward to rest her head in her hands and Tara pulls her hand away to brush Emily’s hair to the side and tug on the collar of her shirt. “Emily,” Tara says softly. “Did someone—”
Emily shakes her head, recognizing the voice Tara uses when speaking to victims and realizing that there must be a hickey on her neck. That combined with the state she’s in: it’s only natural Tara assumed something had happened. “No. It was–it was consensual. It just–“ Her voice breaks.
Tara doesn’t speak, waiting silently for Emily to continue.
“It just felt wrong,” Emily whispers. She keeps her head bowed, too ashamed to look up at her friend. “How did you do it?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean,” Tara says kindly.
Emily uncovers her face and sits back against the couch, chewing on one of her nails. The tightness in her chest is still there and she doesn’t know how to say it. She doesn’t know how to ask the question she so desperately needs to ask without sounding offensive.
“You can speak your mind, Emily,” Tara says.
Emily chuckles. Thank God for profilers.
She pinches the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “How did you let yourself be with a woman?” she whispers.
Tara is silent for a moment. “I don’t know how to answer that question.”
Emily sighs. “I think I’m gay.” She opens her eyes and looks over to Tara to gauge her reaction. She knows she’ll be fine with it, she has a girlfriend for Christ’s sake. But this is the first time Emily’s ever said those words out loud and she’s terrified.
Tara nods and smiles softly at her but doesn’t speak and Emily knows she can tell that she hasn’t finished saying everything she needs to.
“I’ve tried so hard not to be,” Emily admits. “I’ve had boyfriends, I’ve had sex with men.” She lets out a pained laugh. “I’ve even gotten knocked up. Did you know that, Tara? When I was fifteen and living in Italy, I dated a boy I didn’t like because I wanted to fit in and stop thinking about a girl. And we had sex that I wanted but didn’t like and he got me pregnant. My friend helped me get an abortion. All that because I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that I liked a girl. And–and I’m doing the same thing now! I went to a bar and went home with this guy to have sex that I wanted but didn’t like, all because I want to stop thinking about a girl. Like maybe if I let enough men fuck me I’ll stop liking women. I–I know that’s not how that works and I know being gay isn’t something that needs to be fixed but I feel like I need to be.”
“Emily,” Tara says gently. “There is nothing wrong with you.”
Emily sighs. “I know that, Tara.”
“I know you know that, but I think you need to hear it. There is nothing wrong with you for liking women. I know it’s hard and it will take time but you are going to have to accept the fact that you’re gay. You can’t keep doing what you’ve been doing. It’s not healthy. And it’s not fair to yourself or to the men you’ve having sex with.”
Emily nods, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “I know it’s not. It’s just my whole life I’ve been thinking that maybe this guy, maybe this time it won’t feel wrong. Maybe this time I won’t feel gross and–and—“
She shakes her head, unsure of how to finish.
“I know there won’t ever be a ‘this guy’ or a ‘this time’. It won’t ever feel right with a man. But that scares me, Tara. I don’t know why it scares me but it does.”
“Because it’s a scary thing. Realizing and accepting a part of yourself you tried to push away is scary and it’s hard. Especially if you’ve spent a good portion of your life hearing that that part of you was wrong like I suspect you have.”
Emily nods. “Catholic guilt,” she whispers.
“Catholic guilt,” Tara echos. “I don’t know if you still believe in God, Emily, but in case you need to hear it: you wouldn’t be gay if it wasn’t God’s intention. He made you exactly the way you’re supposed to be.”
A violent sob forces itself from Emily’s chest and she can feel her whole body shaking with the force of her crying as Tara pulls her against her chest. Emily doesn’t know if she believes in a God anymore either but knowing He doesn’t hate her fills her with relief.
Emily doesn’t know how long she and Tara stay like that, holding each other close as Tara runs her hands through her hair. But eventually, Emily’s sobs subside into sniffles.
“It’s JJ, isn’t it?” Tara asks softly.
Emily stiffens and sits up. Tara’s hand falls into her lap.
“What?”
“The woman you’re trying not to think about. It’s JJ, isn’t it?”
Emily opens and closes her mouth before slowly nodding.
Tara looks across the room to a photo of her and her girlfriend. “It’s a beautiful thing, loving a woman. Don’t you think?”
Tara looks back over to Emily, who is still looking at the photo.
Eventually, Emily nods.
__________________
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Soft Early Mornings
summary: Emily takes care you when you wake up.
genre: fluff and smut
cw: 18+ mdni! kinda softdom!emily, kinda sub!reader, dirty talking, praise, fingering (r receiving), reader has a vagina but nothing else is specified (the only word used to describe reader's genitalia is clit), reader is written as non-male because I can't imagine emily as anything other than a lesbian, cumming in pants (I guess it counts), no use of y/n, morning sex, crying during sex, soft/emotional sex
wordcount: 1.1k
You wake up to the warmth of the newly risen sun and Emily’s hand under your shirt drawing gentle circles on your stomach. You groan softly and she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Hey, baby,” she whispers. Her voice is husky and quiet. She must have woken up not long before you did.
“Hi,” you whisper in response, pressing your back further against her chest.
She chuckles slightly and flattens her hand on your stomach to pull you closer until your body is completely flush against hers. She slips her thigh between your knees, parting your legs slightly, before once again dragging her fingertips softly over your skin.
You sigh with contentment and turn your head to look back at her as much as you can. Emily props herself up slightly, her hair falling over her shoulder and neck, and presses a brief and gentle kiss to your lips. You smile as she presses a kiss to your nose before tapping the tip of your nose with her own and settling back down into the bed.
You can feel her shift slightly behind you as she knocks off the bit of the blankets that managed to stay covering you both throughout the night despite your squirming. Being this close to each other provides all the warmth you both need.
“I love you,” you mutter.
Emily presses another kiss to your shoulder. “I love you too, baby.”
You hum happily and she chuckles in response. Her hand slips further up your shirt, tracing swirls up to your sternum and back down with two of her fingers. You let your eyes slip shut as you focus on the feeling of her hand, her love and care for you apparent with every soft design she draws.
Emily flattens her hand on your stomach again, just resting it there for a moment before shifting it so the tips of her pinkie and ring fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts. Surprised, you shift your hips slightly, pressing your body harder against her.
She raises up and presses a kiss behind your ear. “Is this okay?” she whispers.
A shaky breath leaves your lips and you nod eagerly.
Emily chuckles into your ear. “Words, sweet thing.”
“Yes,” you gasp.
She kisses you again and you can feel her smile against your skin before she settles back down. Her hand dips further beneath your shorts and you gasp as one of her fingers brushes over your clit.
“Such a pretty little thing,” she mutters. Two of her fingers settle over your clit and start rubbing gentle circles. The feeling makes you moan softly as little sparks of pleasure shoot through your body. The sound makes her chuckle.
Emily doesn’t increase her pace at all, even though you know she can feel how wet you are, moving her fingers just fast enough with just enough pressure to drive you crazy without giving you more. She peppers your back with gentle kisses as you squirm against her and you can feel her smiling at every little gasp and moan that escapes your lips.
She slides her hand further down and you whine at the loss of stimulation to your clit. The sound is quickly cut off by a groan as she sinks two fingers into you at once. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers. You let out a little broken moan as she curls her fingers inside of you. The angle is perfect, allowing her fingers to hit that spot inside you while the heel of her palm presses against your clit.
“E-Emily,” you gasp weakly.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” she soothes. “I’m right here.”
You whimper desperately as she slowly starts to thrust her fingers in and out of you, hitting that spot and nudging your clit every time. She’s so gentle, making the pleasure build inside you slowly, burying deep in your gut and creeping up your spine. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible and you can feel tears pooling in your eyes. A soft and happy sob works its way free from your chest and Emily stills her hand but doesn’t remove it. She props herself up, leaning over you and tilting your head so she can press a long and gentle kiss to your lips. “You okay, sweet thing?” she asks softly. You nod and open your eyes to meet hers. You let your eyes slip closed again as she presses her lips back against yours and resumes the movement of her hand. Her fingers hit that spot again, making you gasp into the kiss. She pulls back and kisses where the tears have gathered at the corners of your closed eyes.
“You’re doing so good, baby. I’m right here,” she whispers. “I’ve got you.”
Heat climbs up your body and you whine desperately as you feel yourself getting close.
“That’s it, beautiful, so good for me.”
Her voice and words are so full of love and care and they drive you crazy, making you whimper and squirm.
“Em–“ you moan.
“It’s okay, baby,” Emily whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Cum for me.”
As if on cue, you cum around her fingers. Pleasure washes over you and your body shudders. You moan and clench around her as she works you through it, whispering praises into your ear. When your orgasm subsides, Emily gently removes her fingers and you practically melt into the bed. It wasn’t a violent or overly powerful orgasm, but the slow build and gentle release of pleasure exhausted you.
Emily slips her leg out from between your knees and you roll onto your back. You open your eyes and blink up at her with a dopey smile, uncaring of the tears still on your face. Emily wipes her fingers clean on her shirt and props herself up on her elbow to look down at you. Her hair falls over her shoulders and brushes against your neck and chin, making you giggle slightly.
You reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear, both to stop it from tickling you and so you can get a better view of her beautiful face. “Hi,” you say softly, lowering your hand to rest on your chest.
“Hey, sweet thing,” she responds. She presses kisses to each of the tears on your cheeks. “Did so good for me.”
You feel your cheeks warm. “Do you wa–”
Emily shakes her head. “No,” she says softly. “This was just about you.”
She kisses you softly and you raise your hand to cup the back of her head. When she pulls away for air, Emily rests her forehead against yours, pressing the tips of your noses together. She slowly opens her eyes to stare into yours.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you too.”
_____
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reblogging this bc im proud of it
It's A Beautiful Thing
summary: Emily struggles to come to terms with her sexuality and goes to Tara for help after a disastrous hookup
genre: hurt/comfort
cw: internalized homophobia, comp het (compulsory heterosexuality), implied/referenced sexual assault (NOTHING HAPPENS it's just assumed that it did), religious trauma, religious guilt, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abortion, using sex as a coping mechanism, unhealthy relationships to sex, Jemily mentions, coming out, unrequited love (or at least it's believed to be)
wordcount: 1.9k
Emily sits on the corner of the bed and sighs as she pulls her pants back on. Her whole body feels wrong and she wants to leave. She looks over at the door to the ensuite bathroom and listens to the sound of the shower running. She shouldn’t leave while he’s still in the shower. That would be cruel. It’s not like he was bad or did anything she didn’t want, it just didn’t feel right.
She picks her bra off the floor and looks around for the first time as she clasps it behind her back. The whole room is painfully male. She hates it. And she hates that she hates it.
Emily closes her eyes and runs her fingers through her hair to detangle it as best as possible. Her chest feels tight and she leans forward, burying her face in her hands and tucking her head between her knees. The sound of the shower feels like it’s drilling into her skull and the smell of sex that surrounds her makes her feel sick.
She presses her hand over her mouth and chokes on a small sob. She needs to leave, she needs to get out of here. She lifts her head and takes a deep breath before picking up her shirt and pulling it over her head. She then grabs her purse from where she’d discarded it in the corner of the room and pulls out her phone.
An idea strikes her and she slips her phone into her pocket before knocking on the bathroom door. “Jackson?” Emily calls out, keeping her voice steady with practiced ease despite feeling like she’s about to implode.
The water shuts off. “Yeah?” he calls back.
Emily squeezes her eyes shut for a moment before speaking. “I’m so sorry. I have to go. I just got a call from work.”
“Yeah, yeah, you should go,” Jackson says sounding surprisingly okay at the thought of her leaving. “Go kick some ass.”
Emily opens her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I will. I’ll call you,” she lies.
“Yeah! Yeah! Just lock the door on the way out, you can do it from the inside.” There’s silence for a moment before the shower turns back on. Almost immediately, Emily rushes out of the room and out of Jackson’s apartment, making sure to lock the door.
She takes the stairs instead of the elevator, unable to stand the thought of standing still for a moment longer than necessary. After five floors she makes it to the basement level parking lot and she thanks her past self for not drinking because her car is here and that means she can leave now.
Emily unlocks her car and throws her purse into the passenger seat not caring that it immediately slides to the floor. She climbs inside and closes the door behind her before slamming the heels of her palms against the steering wheel.
“Fuck!” she cries, curling her hands into her hair. She feels like she’s about to explode. Everything is so wrong and she doesn’t know how to fix it. Sex with Jackson was supposed to fix it but that just made it worse and now she feels gross and dirty through no fault of his. A strangled scream tears its way up her throat. Why does she have to be like this? Why can’t she just be normal? Why can’t she just have sex with men and enjoy it?
Tears pool in her eyes and Emily angrily swipes them away. She needs to leave, to get far away from this stupid apartment complex. She starts the car and it takes nearly all of her self-control not to tear out of the parking lot. She’s already distracted, adding speeding on top of that would be a recipe for disaster. She needs to talk to someone. She wants to talk to JJ but she won’t understand and Will and the boys will be there and she just can’t.
Emily parks along the edge of the road and pulls out her phone, opening her texts with Tara. She stares at the screen for a moment before typing, “Can I come over?” and hitting send. Emily closes her eyes and tries to calm herself while she waits for Tara’s reply. Her hands squeeze a white-knuckled grip on her steering wheel and each breath rattles in her chest.
Her phone buzzes in her hand and she looks down.
“Come on over.”
Emily shuts her phone off and drops it into the cup holder between the seats. She wipes away the tears that had managed to fall and, checking to see if the road is clear, does a U-turn and drives toward Tara’s house.
The turmoil Emily is experiencing makes the drive feel simultaneously seconds and hours long. She turns onto Tara’s street and parks along the curb in front of her house. She leaves her purse in the car, only grabbing her phone and keys, before climbing out and walking up the steps to Tara’s front door, locking her car behind her.
The closer she gets to the door the more panicked and ashamed she feels and by the time she knocks, she’s barely holding it together. The door swings open and Tara takes in her appearance with wide eyes and clear concern. Emily opens her mouth to speak but all that comes out is a choked sob. Tara pulls her into a hug and Emily nearly collapses in her arms.
They stand there for a while, Emily sobbing into Tara’s shoulder, as they stand on the threshold of her house. Eventually, Emily’s crying subsides and Tara leads her inside with a hand around her waist, closing the door behind them. Tara guides Emily into the living room and onto the couch, keeping her arm around her.
Emily leans forward to rest her head in her hands and Tara pulls her hand away to brush Emily’s hair to the side and tug on the collar of her shirt. “Emily,” Tara says softly. “Did someone—”
Emily shakes her head, recognizing the voice Tara uses when speaking to victims and realizing that there must be a hickey on her neck. That combined with the state she’s in: it’s only natural Tara assumed something had happened. “No. It was–it was consensual. It just–“ her voice breaks.
Tara doesn’t speak, waiting silently for Emily to continue.
“It just felt wrong,” Emily whispers. She keeps her head bowed, too ashamed to look up at her friend. “How did you do it?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean,” Tara says kindly.
Emily uncovers her face and sits back against the couch, chewing on one of her nails. The tightness in her chest is still there and she doesn’t know how to say it. She doesn’t know how to ask the question she so desperately needs to ask without sounding offensive.
“You can speak your mind, Emily,” Tara says.
Emily chuckles. Thank God for profilers.
She pinches the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “How did you let yourself be with a woman?” she whispers.
Tara is silent for a moment. “I don’t know how to answer that question.”
Emily sighs. “I think I’m gay.” She opens her eyes and looks over to Tara to gauge her reaction. She knows she’ll be fine with it, she has a girlfriend for Christ’s sake. But this is the first time Emily’s ever said those words out loud and she’s terrified.
Tara nods and smiles softly at her but doesn’t speak and Emily knows she can tell that she hasn’t finished saying everything she needs to.
“I’ve tried so hard not to be,” Emily admits. “I’ve had boyfriends, I’ve had sex with men.” She lets out a pained laugh. “I’ve even gotten knocked up. Did you know that, Tara? When I was fifteen and living in Italy, I dated a boy I didn’t like because I wanted to fit in and stop thinking about a girl. And we had sex that I wanted but didn’t like and he got me pregnant. My friend helped me get an abortion. All that because I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that I liked a girl. And–and I’m doing the same thing now! I went to a bar and went home with this guy to have sex that I wanted but didn’t like, all because I want to stop thinking about a girl. Like maybe if I let enough men fuck me I’ll stop liking women. I–I know that’s not how that works and I know being gay isn’t something that needs to be fixed but I feel like I need to be.”
“Emily,” Tara says gently. “There is nothing wrong with you.”
Emily sighs. “I know that, Tara.”
“I know you know that, but I think you need to hear it. There is nothing wrong with you for liking women. I know it’s hard and it will take time but you are going to have to accept the fact that you’re gay. You can’t keep doing what you’ve been doing. It’s not healthy. And it’s not fair to yourself or to the men you’ve having sex with.”
Emily nods, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “I know it’s not. It’s just my whole life I’ve been thinking that maybe this guy, maybe this time it won’t feel wrong. Maybe this time I won’t feel gross and–and—“
She shakes her head, unsure of how to finish.
“I know there won’t ever be a ‘this guy’ or a ‘this time’. It won’t ever feel right with a man. But that scares me, Tara. I don’t know why it scares me but it does.”
“Because it’s a scary thing. Realizing and accepting a part of yourself you tried to push away is scary and it’s hard. Especially if you’ve spent a good portion of your life hearing that that part of you was wrong like I suspect you have.”
Emily nods. “Catholic guilt,” she whispers.
“Catholic guilt,” Tara echos. “I don’t know if you still believe in God, Emily, but in case you need to hear it: you wouldn’t be gay if it wasn’t God’s intention. He made you exactly the way you’re supposed to be.”
A violent sob forces itself from Emily’s chest and she can feel her whole body shaking with the force of her crying as Tara pulls her against her chest. Emily doesn’t know if she believes in a God anymore either but knowing He doesn’t hate her fills her with relief.
Emily doesn’t know how long she and Tara stay like that, holding each other close as Tara runs her hands through her hair. But eventually, Emily’s sobs subside into sniffles.
“It’s JJ, isn’t it,” Tara asks softly.
Emily stiffens and sits up. Tara’s hand falls into her lap.
“What?”
“The woman you’re trying not to think about. It’s JJ, isn’t it.”
Emily opens and closes her mouth before slowly nodding.
Tara looks across the room to a photo of her and her girlfriend. “It’s a beautiful thing, loving a woman. Don’t you think?”
Tara looks back over to Emily, who is still looking at the photo.
Eventually, Emily nods.
__________________
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Please can you do more Emily smuts like the soft early mornings one? Love the soft dom thing
Home Early
Here you go, love!
summary: Emily gets home early from a case and you decide to join her in the shower.
genre: fluff and smut
cw: 18+ mdni! kinda softdom!emily, kinda sub!reader, praise, fingering (r and emily receiving), oral sex (emily receiving), reader has a vagina but nothing else is specified (the only word used to describe reader's genitalia is clit), shower sex, reader is written as non-male because I can't imagine emily as anything other than a lesbian, no use of y/n, brief joke about guns (used in hyperbole)
wordcount: 1.6k
The shower is running when you get home from work. You can hear it as soon as you step inside. Emily must have gotten home not long ago. You smile. You weren’t expecting her back for another day at least. You toe off your shoes and set your bag on the console table before making your way across the apartment toward the bathroom.
You press your ear against the door for a moment but hear nothing except for the sound of the running water. You knock gently on the door.
“Oh!” Emily’s surprised voice is slightly muffled by the water and the door but you can still hear her. “I was hoping to surprise you when you came home.”
The thought makes you smile. “May I join you?” you ask.
“The day I say no to that question, I want you to take my gun and shoot me,” Emily jokes.
You open the door, and steam billows into your face. Emily must have forgotten to turn the fan on, so you do it for her. “So dramatic,” you laugh.
Emily chuckles in response.
You peel off your clothes and drop them on top of Emily’s. You peel back the shower curtain and step inside. “I don’t even know how to use a gun.”
Emily wraps her arms around your waist and gently pulls you against her. You drape your arms around her neck and smile at her.
She kisses you gently. “You’re smart. I’m sure you could figure it out,” she whispers against your lips.
You hum into her mouth as she catches your lower lip between her teeth.
She pulls away and stares into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful, you know that, sweetheart?” she breathes.
You feel your face warm and recapture her lips in a kiss to distract her from your embarrassment.
“So shy,” Emily mutters between kisses.
You hum in agreement and pull back to whisper, “I love you.”
“I love you too, sweet thing.”
You let your eyes wander over her face, taking in her beauty and the way the water cascades over her face, dripping from her nose and eyelashes. Her hair is slicked back from the water, and you can't help but run your hand through it.
“Have you washed your hair yet?” you ask.
“Just shampoo,” Emily responds.
You hum and reach behind her to grab the conditioner, squeezing a small amount into your hand. You set the bottle back and hold out your hand, palm up. “Turn,” you say simply.
Emily chuckles and removes her hands from your waist to do as you say, shuffling back slightly so the water lands on her chest instead of her face. You rub the conditioner between your hands before reaching up and sliding your fingers into her hair. You rub the conditioner into the roots of her hair, pressing and scratching at her scalp. Emily sighs happily.
You take your time working the conditioner into her hair, taking longer than necessary because you know Emily likes it when you rub her head. You press kisses along the back of her neck and shoulders. Eventually, your arms start to get a little tired, and you lower your hands to rinse off the conditioner.
Emily turns back around to face you with a soft smile.
You smile back at her and guide her forward to keep the water off her scalp. “I have something for you,” you say coyly.
“Oh?”
You hum in affirmation and, placing your hands on her hips for support, carefully sink to your knees.
“Oh,” Emily gasps, her hands instinctively coming to gently rest on your head.
You look up at her with pleading eyes, practically begging Emily to let you taste her. She smiles down at you knowingly. “Go ahead, baby.”
The moment the words leave her lips, you press your face between her legs, licking a long stripe up to her clit. Emily gasps, and her hips press forward against your mouth for a moment before returning to their previous position.
You shift your hands from her hips to grip the back of her thighs, spreading her legs slightly and pulling her hard against your face. Emily groans loudly and pushes your head forward slightly, picking up on your desire for her control.
You wrap your lips around her clit and the sound Emily makes goes straight between your legs. You moan against her, and the pressure of her hand increases.
“Fuck, so good, baby. Doing so good,” she mumbles.
The praise drives you crazy, and you start to eat her out with increased fervor. Everything you do draws loud moans from Emily’s lips that turn you on to no end. You press messy, open-mouthed kisses to her cunt. Nipping and sucking on her labia before flicking your tongue over her clit.
Water cascades over your body and face, but you can still taste Emily’s arousal and feel your own sticking to your thighs. You tilt your chin forward, sticking out your tongue as far as it can go, and press the tip of it inside her.
“Oh!” Emily gasps, doubling over slightly and using her grip on your head for support. You moan desperately into her cunt, and her hips jerk forward. “Fuck, sweetheart. Doing so good for me.”
You whimper against her and squeeze your thighs together to try to get some friction. You remove one of your hands from the back of her thighs and slip it between her legs, pulling your head back just enough for your hand to fit.
You return your attention to Emily’s clit, rubbing circles into it with your tongue as you press your middle finger into of her. A violent moan rips free from Emily’s chest, and the fact that you’re the one making her feel so good has heat pooling in your gut and makes you whimper around her clit.
You curl your finger, pressing it into that spongy spot inside of her over and over again as you continue your tongue’s ministrations on her clit. A mixture of praise and profanities falls from Emily’s lips as you finger her. You slip your ring finger in next, and the feeling has Emily moaning, “Just like that, baby. Just like that. Feels so good!”
You groan and, without stilling the movement of your fingers, pull your head back to look up at her. “C-can I touch myself?” you pant desperately, barely able to control yourself anymore.
Emily nods. “Go-go ahead, sweet thing,” she gasps, her words broken and interrupted by the sounds of her own pleasure.
“Thank you, thank you,” you gasp, wrapping your lips back around her clit and slipping your free hand between your thighs. You rub fast circles against your clit, but your hand stutters and stalls every few seconds, unable to move at a separate rhythm to the hand fingering Emily.
You whimper desperately, bucking your hips into your hand as you continue to pleasure Emily. You whine and gasp against her clit as you finger her and try to get yourself off at the same time. Heat pools in your stomach, but despite how good it feels, it’s not enough.
You press a third finger into Emily, and another loud moan escapes her. “Fuck, I-I’m close,” she pants.
You moan against her and press your fingers into that spot again and again until Emily cums with a cry of your name, clenching hard around your fingers. You work her through it, still desperately grinding your clit against your hand.
Emily’s breathing slows as she comes down from her orgasm, and you remove your hand and lean back, focusing your efforts on yourself now.
Emily looks down at you and chuckles. “You having some trouble, sweet thing?”
You stare up at her with wide eyes and nod desperately.
“Do you want me to help?” she asks with a hint of loving condescension.
You nod again, and Emily lowers herself to the floor, slotting one of her legs between your knees. Water and conditioner stream from her hair, and she tilts her head back for a moment to get it out of her face before leaning forward and removing your hand. You whimper at the loss of stimulation, but almost instantly, Emily has two fingers pressed deep inside of you.
You gasp and let your head fall forward, panting heavily as you try to keep breathing despite the incredible pleasure shooting through your body. With her free hand, Emily hooks a finger under your chin and lifts your head. You stare at her with wide, desperate eyes, and as if she could read your mind, she kisses you hard.
You kiss back sloppily, overwhelmed by the feeling of her fingers inside of you and the heel of her palm on your clit. Then her fingers hit that spot, and you cum with a weak cry. Your head falls forward slightly, breaking the kiss, and Emily maneuvers herself so that your face is pressed into the crook of her neck as she works you through it, whispering praises into your ear.
Eventually, your orgasm fades, and you pull your head from her neck with a dopey smile. Emily chuckles and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You hum and kiss her back.
You run your hand through her hair, and the rest of the conditioner falls away.
“Maybe we should switch to a bath,” you joke.
Emily chuckles and guides you into her lap as she turns around, easing the pressure on your sore knees. Hooking an arm around your waist to keep you in place, she leans forward, plugging the drain and turning the nob to start the bath.
_____
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
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@angeliccss @novaanna @moonysreid @i-live-in-spite @ilyremuslupin @ashluvscaterina
Hii can we please get an Emily Prentiss with a fem reader with something to do with strip poker? :)
Love your fics sm!!
Strip Poker
Here you go, my love! And thank you! Also, I learned how to play texas hold 'em from a hermitcraft video haha
genre: fluff
cw: suggestive 16+! kinda fem! kinda gn!reader (reader's gender is not specified but is described as having breasts and wearing bra), strip poker, getting together, kinda fade to black smut
wordcount: 1.9k
“Wanna play poker?”
You turn to look at Emily. She’s lounging against the arm of her couch and watching you with raised eyebrows and a cheeky smile.
“You better not be like Reid,” you warn.
She laughs. “No, no. Don’t worry. I’m good, but I can’t count cards.”
You raise your eyebrows. “What are you trying to trick me out of? I don’t have any cash.”
“So does that mean you want to play?”
You shrug. “Sure. I don’t know what we would bet though.”
“We could play strip poker,” she says simply, like it’s no big deal at all.
Your eyes widen and you can feel your face warm. “Seriously?”
Emily shrugs. “We don’t have to, of course,” she says nonchalantly. “But, yeah, seriously.”
You swallow hard as you try to wrap your head around Emily’s proposal. Strip poker. With Emily. With the woman you’ve had a crush on for over a year. The thought seems almost too good to be true. You find yourself nodding and Emily’s eyes light up.
You can’t help but feel a little guilty as she pushes herself off the couch and leaves to grab a deck of cards. But she suggested it. It was her idea. It’s not like this was an elaborate plan on your behalf to see her naked.
Figuring it would be easier to play on a flat surface, you slip off the couch and onto the floor, crossing your legs beneath you and leaning back against the base of the couch. You pick at your fingernails nervously as Emily returns waving a deck of cards triumphantly.
She sits on the floor in front of you, leaving about a foot of space, and slips the cards from the pack. “What kind of poker do you want to play?” she asks, shuffling the cards with an ease you find insanely attractive.
“I only know Texas Hold ‘Em,” you admit nervously.
Emily nods and shuffles the cards again. “We’ll play that then. I’ll teach you another variant some other time.”
You haven’t even started to play, but your cheeks warm at the thought of doing this again.
“No blinds, obviously,” Emily says.
You nod in agreement.
“We’ll bet an item of clothing and the other person can call to match the amount or raise by adding another item.” she continues. “You lose a hand, you lose the clothes you bet. And that includes folding unless it’s right off the bat.”
You nod again, too flustered to come up with any words.
“Alright,” Emily says, dragging out the word as she deals two cards facedown to herself and you.
You pick up your cards. Queen of spades and two of clubs. Not a great hand, but a queen high isn’t horrible. “I-I’ll bet my shirt,” you mutter.
Emily nods. “I will as well,” she responds, taking three cards off the top of the deck and laying them out between you. Eight of hearts, eight of clubs, and 3 of spades.
You glance up to see Emily watching you with an indecipherable expression. You can feel your heart rate pick up and you fight the urge to lower your gaze, staring right into her eyes instead. She smiles. “Do you want to raise?” she asks.
“No, I’m good.”
“You ready for the next card?”
You hum in affirmation and she takes the top card from the deck and sets it next to the others. Two of diamonds. You feel a bit of relief at the thought that you might not be the first to begin undressing.
Emily pauses for a moment to give you a chance to raise, and when you don’t she takes the next card from the deck and sets it down to reveal the six of diamonds. “Ace high,” she says, lowering her hand for you to see.
You smirk at her and flip your cards. “Two pair.”
Emily laughs and tilts her head in acknowledgment. She sets her cards down and curls her fingers under the hem of her shirt. Your breath hitches as she slowly starts to lift her shirt, revealing first her toned stomach and then the black bra that perfectly supports her breasts. Her eyes stay locked on yours the entire time. She finally pulls the shirt over her head and tosses it aside and you have to fight the urge to stare. She’s absolutely gorgeous and you don’t know what to do with yourself.
Emily reaches out and rests her hand on your knee, making you jump slightly. “You alright?” she asks sweetly.
You find yourself nodding before you can even properly process her question. She smiles at you and your stomach feels like it does a backflip.
“Ready for the next hand?” she asks, picking up all the cards and shuffling them.
You nod again. It’s like her beauty has rendered you incapable of coherent thought, much less speech. Emily deals the cards and you look to see that you have a six of hearts and a seven of clubs. With some luck, you might end up with a straight and get to see Emily take off another piece of clothing. You blink hard to drag yourself back to reality as Emily says, “I bet my socks.”
You look down at your hand again. “I’ll bet my shirt.”
Emily raises an eyebrow at you and you smile back. Your nerves are quickly starting to shift into excitement. She sets the next three cards down. Ace of hearts, 10 of spades, and jack of clubs.
“I’ll raise my belt,” Emily says. You look up at her to see a cocky expression on her face. The flop gives the chance for a straight, though you doubt she has both a queen and a king, if she already had a straight she’d be raising way more than just her belt. She might have one of them. Or maybe she’s bluffing.
“I’ll match with my belt.”
Emily deals out the turn. A five of diamonds.
“I raise my pants.”
Your head shoots up and you stare at Emily with wide eyes. Maybe she does have a king and queen. You try to read her, but her expression is the same slight cockiness and self-satisfaction it’s been the whole game. You look back and forth between your hand and the community cards.
“I fold.”
Emily smiles wide and you hand her your cards face down for her to shuffle back into the deck with the others. You take a deep breath to steady yourself before beginning to unbuckle your belt. Emily’s eyes seem practically glued to your hands as she shuffles the cards. The metal of the buckle clinks as you pull your belt through the loops of your pants and set it off to the side. You lock eyes with Emily as you hook your fingers under your shirt and her hands go still.
You smirk, pleased to see that you seem to have the same effect on her that she has on you. Taking a leaf from her book, you maintain eye contact as you slowly remove your shirt, and by the time it’s gone and you’re just in your bra, you can see the blush on her cheeks. The realization that she’s enjoying this just as much as you starts a fire burning in your gut and you start to think that maybe Emily wants you too.
She opens and closes her mouth for a moment, before lowering her gaze back to the cards and shuffling them again. “You’re beautiful,” she says softly.
Your face feels like it’s on fire. “Th-thank you,” you stutter, taken aback. “You are too.”
She lifts her head slightly and smiles at you softly before handing out the cards. Seven of hearts and king of spades. Emily hums as she looks at her cards.
“I’ll, um, I’ll bet my socks,” you say. Now that you’re both shirtless, you can feel the excitement curling in your chest. You want to see more of her.
Emily nods. “I’ll bet my belt.”
She lays down a four of clubs, nine of spades, and a king of clubs. You smile confidently. The flop doesn’t lend itself to anything good so you feel you have a good chance with a pair of kings. Even if Emily has a four, as long as another one isn’t played in the turn or river, you’ll win.
“You gonna raise?”
You think for a moment before shrugging. You might as well. “I’ll raise my pants.”
Emily’s face flushes. “I’ll match with my own.”
Neither of you raises the bet as an ace of hearts and eight of clubs are played. When the hand is over, you smirk at her, feeling confident in your victory. You set your cards face up on the floor. Emily laughs and does the same. Your jaw drops. She has a four of spades and a four of hearts.
“You forgot about three of a kind, didn’t you?”
You stare at her in shock. “I—yeah,” you admit. “I thought for sure I had you.”
“That’s what you get for being cocky,” Emily teases with a laugh.
You scowl playfully and stick out your tongue. You quickly tug off your socks and toss them to the side before climbing to your feet. Emily’s gaze follows you as you stand, watching the movement of your fingers as you undo your pants. You can see the way her chest heaves with each breath as she watches you slowly push your jeans off your hips.
You bend over seductively, giving her a good view up your bra as you slide your pants down your legs. You swear you can hear her breath hitch. Once free of your jeans you toss them off to the side and sit back down with your legs crossed in a way that leaves your underwear exposed.
Emily lowers her gaze and quickly reshuffles and deals the cards. The round passes quickly and you can tell she’s distracted. She jumps straight to betting her pants and you match with your bra, then she loses with a jack high to your pair of threes. She practically jumps to her feet and without removing her belt, pushes her pants down.
The sight of her underwear makes your face burn. They’re a pair of small black boyshorts that hug her ass perfectly as she bends over, forcing you to struggle between choosing to look there or at her breasts. Either way, she’s gorgeous.
She tosses her pants to the side and, instead of sitting back down where she was, she closes the gap between you and lowers herself to sit on your lap. Your arms shoot up in surprise, your hands hovering over her skin, unsure if you’re allowed to touch. You can hear your pulse rushing in your ears.
Emily drapes her arms around the back of your neck and stares at you for a moment. You stare back with wide eyes and your mouth parted slightly in shock. She brushes her hand over your cheek and you swear your heart skips a beat.
“You can touch me, sweetheart,” she whispers.
You nod desperately and immediately your hands find her hips. “I-is this really happening?” you breathe, unable to wrap your head around it.
“If you want it to.”
You nod again, just as desperately. “Yes, God, yes. I’ve wanted you for so long,” you gasp weakly.
Emily smiles softly at you. “I have as well.” Her gaze drops from your eyes to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”
You think the way your hand immediately slides into her hair and presses her lips against yours is answer enough.
_____
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every time they make emily prentiss pretend to be attracted to a man an angel dies. get my girl OUT OF THERE