Emily Prentiss X Gn Reader - Tumblr Posts

I know you don't see Emily as anything but a lesbian but could you possibly do a trans reader? It can trans non-binary or masc like a demi boy, but they're afraid to come out to Emily because she is very open that she's gay?

Coming Out

Here you go!

genre: angst and fluff, hurt/comfort

cw: coming out, trans masc!reader, no use of y/n, panic attacks

wordcount: 1.2k

You pace back and forth across the living room, taking deep, steadying breaths to try to calm yourself. You groan in frustration and sit on the edge of the couch, burying your head in your hands. You can feel your hands shaking.

You’re terrified. You’ve been dating Emily for almost two years. You live together. How do you tell her you’re not the girl she started dating? And you have no idea what it will mean for your relationship when you do. Emily is a lesbian. She likes women. And you’re not a woman. 

You lean back and run your hands over your chest, reveling in the flatness. Your binder arrived three weeks ago. You had made sure it would be delivered while Emily was on a case. You immediately hid it, and have only worn it while Emily is out of town and there’s no chance of her seeing it. 

It makes you feel so incredibly guilty.

She’s your girlfriend. You shouldn’t be hiding stuff from her. 

You adjust the binder with a grunt. It’s still uncomfortable to wear since you haven’t gotten used to it yet, but it’s worth it. You check your watch. Emily should be home in a few minutes. You don’t want to ambush her with this the second she walks through the door but you’ve been hyping yourself up all week and if you don’t do it soon, you’re not sure you ever will. 

Still, you’re scared. What if she breaks up with you because you’re not a woman? What if she gets mad that you didn’t tell her sooner? What if this makes her hate you?

A panicked sob bubbles up your throat and you curl in on yourself, hugging your stomach to try to calm down. You can feel your heart rate picking up as you gasp for air. 

You force yourself to take deep breaths and the shakiness of each inhale is audible. Then you hear Emily’s key turning in the lock and your panic increases. She’s here, she’s going to see you like this, she’s going to hate you. 

She calls your name from the entryway as she moves around and even though that’s still the name you use, the sound causes a sob to tear from your chest. You hear Emily freeze. You clap a hand over your mouth, and though you desperately want to get up and lock yourself in the bathroom to hide, your body won’t cooperate. 

You hear Emily’s footsteps coming toward the living room and your breathing picks up until you’re hyperventilating and gasping between sobs.

“Woah, hey, hey,” Emily says softly, sitting beside you on the couch. “What’s going on? What happened?” She rests her hand on your back and starts rubbing soothing circles.

You practically shove your body against hers, not caring that you're staining her shirt with your tears, just desperate to touch her in case this is the last time you can. “P-please don’t hate me,” you wail.

“Oh, sweetie,” Emily mutters kindly. “I could never hate you.”

You curl your fingers into the front of her shirt and cling to it like a lifeline. “You don’t—you don’t know that,” you sob.

“I do know that,” Emily reassures you.

You sniff and pull away, untangling your hands from her shirt. You look her in the eyes for a moment, noticing the clear concern written on her face. You lift your hand and hold out your pinkie. “Pi-pinkie promise?” you stutter. You feel like a child for asking, but you’re so desperate for her answer that you can’t bring yourself to care. 

Emily removes her hand from your back and curls her pinkie around yours. “Pinkie promise.”

You sniff again and unlatch your pinkie to rub your face. Emily’s hand returns to your back. 

“I—“ you start. You can feel your chin wobble and you bite on your lower lip to stop it. You bow your head, too afraid to watch the changes in her expression as you tell her. “I’m not a girl.”

You feel Emily’s hand still for a moment before it starts moving again. She doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m non binary. Or at least that’s what feels like it fits. Pl-please, don’t be mad! I understand if you want to break u—"

“Woah, hey,” Emily interrupts. “I’m not mad, I promise. But do–do you want to break up?” Her voice is wary and it shakes slightly.

Your head shoots up to look at her. “No! Never!” you insist. “But I–I thought you might want to.”

“What on Earth could make you think that?” Emily asks. There isn’t a hint of malice or annoyance in her voice. Just curiosity and concern.

“Be-because you’re a lesbian. And I’m not a girl,” you mutter.

“Oh, sweetheart. I don’t care about that,” Emily coos. “You’re so much more important to me than what I call myself. I love you for you, not for your gender. I don’t care what you identify as, I will always love you.”

Tears stream down your cheeks and you wipe them away violently. “Th-thank you,” you gasp.

“Oh, honey.” Emily pulls you against her chest, holding you close and moving her hand to rub up and down your arm. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“Yes, there is,” you argue, your voice muffled against her.

Emily presses a kiss to the top of your head instead of arguing. “I do have some questions I want to ask, though, if that’s okay.”

You nod against her chest and tilt your head to look up at her.

She smiles down at you kindly. “Do you, um, do you want to go by a different name?” she asks awkwardly.

You shake your head. 

“What about pronouns?”

“I like they/them, but I’m not sure,” you admit. “And I don’t like being called a girl.”

Emily nods. “Okay. That's good to know. I, um, I might mess up sometimes at first but I promise I'll be doing my best.”

“That’s all I want,” you whisper, and press a kiss to her chin. 

She smiles and lowers her head to catch your lips for a brief kiss.

“How long have you known?” Emily asks softly.

You hum and furrow your brow as you try to think back. “Maybe five months,” you say. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Hey, I’m not upset about that. I could never be. Coming out is hard.”

“I bought myself a binder a few weeks ago too,” you admit.

Emily’s brow furrows in confusion. “A binder?”

You nod. “It’s a compression garment, kind of like a beefed up sports bra, that flattens your chest.” You lean back and run your hands over your chest to show her. “See?”

“Impressive,” Emily says with a slight laugh.

You laugh in response. “Yeah. I, um, I really like it. It makes me happy. And feel right. If that makes sense.”

Emily nods and pulls you in for another kiss. “It does. And I’m glad.”

“You’re the best,” you whisper against her lips.

“I know,” she teases. 

You laugh and lightly bat her shoulder and Emily laughs too.

“I love you, sweet thing,” she mutters. 

You hum. “I love you too. And I like that nickname.”

Emily chuckles. “Better than 'sweet girl'?”

“Much better.”

_____

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