Forbidden Affairs - Emily Prentiss x Reader

blowing off steam

For the purposes of this storyline, imagine this is fully based off Evolution Emily with grey hair and a 100% mommy attitude, okay?

I'm going to use they/them pronouns for Y/n throughout this entire story to keep it universal (I also use they/them pronouns), but this is still a lesbian storyline.

If you haven't read my previous Emily x Reader story feel free to go check that out!

Words in italics are your thoughts.
Smut chapters will have an asterisk (*) in the chapter title.
Enjoy !

(2,914 words)

'What can I get you?' The chirpy bartender asked. You parted your lips to speak but paused to glance across their selection.

'Uh... tequila please. Silver.' You ordered.

'Coming up.' The bartender replied, lifting a shot glass seemingly out of nowhere and pouring the tequila from the bottle. He diced a lime quickly and wedged a slice on the side of the shot glass, before lifting up a basket of salt sachets from behind the bar.

'Hold the salt, thank you.' You said, holding your hand out. You picked up the shot glass of tequila, downed your shot and sucked on the lime. The bartender eyed you, waiting for your composed demeanour to change.

'Wow. You didn't even squint.' He remarked. You smiled politely back, before pushing the shot glass away from you with the leftover lime skin inside.

'You know what, you may as well pour me a few more whilst you're not busy.' You said, rummaging around your handbag for your purse.

'Okay...' the bartender said, leaning down to grab some more shot glasses. 'How many?' He asked.

'Make it four.' You said bluntly. The bartender paused for a second as if you were going to suddenly admit you were joking, but when you didn't he brought the four shot glasses up onto the bar.

'Bad day?' He asked with an eyebrow raised as he poured the tequila messily into the glasses.

'No.' You replied. The bartender looked at you as if to say 'if you don't provide an explanation for wanting to drink this many shots of tequila, I'm going to assume you're an alcoholic and refuse to serve you'. Upon noticing this, you tried to elaborate as briefly as possible. 'It's preemptively preparing for a bad day.' You admitted.

'Oh yeah? How's that work?' He asked, taking the remainder of the lime he'd diced and squeezing the wedges onto the shot glasses.

'I start my training for a new job tomorrow and I'm dreading it.' You replied. 'I figure that if I have a hangover, I can focus on that instead of how stressful it's gonna be.' The bartender looked at you as if you were consistently perplexing him.

'Whatever works for you, I guess.' He said, as he slid the four shots across to you. You ignored his reluctance to your plan and reached into your purse. You handed him a note.

'Keep the change.' You said. He took the note from you but held it in the air between you.

'Are you sure? Most people wait until the end of the night to tip.' He said, confused.

'By the end of the night I plan on being too drunk to remember what day it is, never mind to tip you.' You replied bluntly. He nodded, but made his surprised facial expressions particularly obvious as he moved away from you.

God, why are people so insufferable?

You took another shot, sucking on the lime afterwards. Right at that moment you noticed a woman across you at the bar. You pulled the lime from your lips and swiped the juice away from your the corners of your mouth as you saw her looking at you. She smirked a little as you did.