Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Female Reader
Word count: 563
Summary: After a long, draining case, Emily comes home to find you lying on her couch with Sergio.
a/n: Hiii, this is the first fic i upload. I wasn't sure if I wanted to post it, but I really liked this one so screw it. It's really short, and I'm not sure if I'll publish anything else. Also English isn't my first language so I'm very sorry if there's any spelling mistakes. Enjoyy!!!
The door falls shut behind Emily, the soft click resonating in the entrance of the apartment. She locked the door behind her before venturing inside the apartment.
The scent hit her first: Cinnamon mixed with something else she couldn't quite place clinging to her apartment; a sign that someone's been baking.
The faint sound of her shoes hitting the floor echoed in the entrance as she stepped into the warm lighting of her living room, and there you were: curled up on her couch with a blanket and Sergio on your lap, a book resting on your chest, wearing only one of Emily's shirts with a pair of womans boxers.
"Hey," you murmured with your eyes barely open.
Emily smiled; a smile reserved only for you.
She crossed the room slowly and paused by the couch. As you straightened your back, Sergio woke up and moved between you both.
She exhaled softly as she laid her head on your shoulder.
"Long day?" You asked, fingers caressing her hair softly.
"Mmm" was all she said.
But her fingers twitched against Sergio's fur. The tension in her shoulders hadn't left yet.
She stood up and made her way towards the kitchen. "You made tea?" She asked
You nodded. "I left the mug on the microwave to keep it warm. And I may have attempted cinnamon rolls."
Emily raised a brow while opening the microwave. "Attempted?"
"They taste awful,"
She laughed. The tired, quiet kind of laugh that slipped out like a breath she's been holding for hours.
"What do you mean awful?" she murmured, pulling the warm mug out of the microwave. The tea's scent rising with the steam.
You shrugged from the couch, your head dropping back to the cushions. "Well, Sergio approved. But he also ate a cockroach once, so his standards are... questionable."
Emily's soft laughter filled the room once more as she leaned against the counter, watching you. Noticing the sleepy droop of your lashes, your legs tangled in the blanket like you'd been waiting for her.
"You didn't have to wait up," she said softly
You blinked at her, a small, lazy smile pulling at your lips. "Wasn't waiting up. Just... fell asleep here." Your tone betraying you.
Emily took a sip of the tea, then set it down. She walked back over and sat beside you. Not close enough to touch at first, but then, slowly, she leaned. Her shoulder against yours. Her forehead brushing your temple as a silent request.
You shifted, letting her settle into your side. Sergio climbed back into your lap, circling twice before curling up.
Emily inhaled deeply, breathing you in; cinnamon, warmth, and the softness of home she never remembered having before you.
"You okay?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Emily didn't answer right away. She just nuzzled closer, letting herself fold in small parts at a time, like she was peeling off her armor piece by piece.
"Just tired," she finally murmured into your neck.
You kissed the top of her head, slow and lingering. "Then don't talk. Rest, baby."
Silence settled; comfortable, thick, safe.
After a few minutes, Emily spoke again, voice sleepy and softened at the edges:
"...We'll try the cinnamon rolls together tomorrow."
You smiled, snuggling close; eyes closed, body warm against hers.
"I'll do the icing. It's the only thing I did that tasted good."
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