Emily Prentiss x Reader Oneshots

Fix You

Sweat was beading on your forehead and dripping down the back of your neck as a chill ran through your body. Every movement of your muscles sent an ache straight to your bones and you swore you could feel something shake in your lungs with every breath. Bronchioles, you thought to yourself in your delirium, distant memories of an undergraduate physiology class ringing in your ears, the trees of the breathing. You giggled to yourself at your nonsensical internal monologue, triggering another coughing fit that felt like it was shredding your chest to pieces.

You were miserable.

It had been days since you had left your apartment, barely managing to make it to the bathroom, kitchen, and back to your nest of blankets on the couch. Wads of tissues were overflowing from the small bathroom waste bin you had dragged to the living room and sprinkled on the floor and every nearby surface. The sickness had started out as a simple cold but today seemed to be the worst day yet.

As you lost yourself in another coughing fit, you barely heard the scratch of a key in the lock.

"Baby? Are you home?" Emily called from the foyer, the sound of her go-bag dragging on the floor behind her, signaling that she must have come here straight from the jet.

Before you could respond, another cough ripped from your chest. Emily dropped her bag and frantically tried to toe out of her second boot, nearly toppling over in the process. As soon as she was freed, she quickly crossed the apartment to kneel in front of you and rub your back through your coughing fit, reaching for the nearly empty glass of water on the table to give to you.

"Honey, are you okay?" Emily asked as she helped you sip some water after your coughing slowed.

"Peachy," you rasped out, your voice gritty and deep. Emily frowned and caressed your forehead with the back of her hand.

"God, you're burning up," Emily said, getting up to get a cold rag from the kitchen. As she wiped the sweat off of your face, she tutted. "Why haven't you called? If you're this sick, I want to help you."

"You were gone on a case," you replied, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. "I'm sorry, I just didn't want to bother you while you were off doing important superhero stuff. I am fine."

"There is no need to apologize, honey. But this is definitely worth bothering me, okay? You're so important to me."

Emily busied herself scurrying around your apartment, gathering cold and flu medicine, a thermometer, and a barrage of other supplies. Swiping the thermometer over your forehead, Emily frowned as it flashed an angry orange and gave an unhappy beep.

"We've gotta try and get this fever down, Y/N/N," Emily said while moving to grab various medications and read the label. "I think if you take a dose of this gross looking purple one, some Tylenol and we get some of this Emergen-C in you, that might help bring your temp down, baby."

It brought a tear to your eye, one that almost certainly wouldn't have appeared without the additional stress of being so sick, that Emily was going through such effort to take care of you. It wasn't even a question. From the moment she had walked in the door and noticed that you were unwell, she began doing anything she could think of to take care of you. It wasn't patronizing or overwhelming, it was just enough.

"Have you eaten today, sweet girl?" Emily asked as you drank the last of your water with the medication. You shook your head and Emily huffed.

"Well that just won't do," Emily tutted in your direction with a smile, trying to soothe some of the knots in your hair with her fingers. She stood and kissed your forehead, making a small noise of displeasure at the temperature.

The next thing you knew, Emily was gently shaking you awake.

"Open your eyes for me, sweetheart, we've gotta get more medicine in you," Emily said in hushed tones.

It took a few tries but you finally pried your eyes open and saw two of Emily slowly meld back into one. Your lungs felt heavy but your coughing seemed to have stopped, the medicine Emily had found to thank. Sitting on the coffee table in front of you was a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup-- one that looked to delicious to have come from a can.

"Did you make that?" you asked, pointing a shaking finger from beneath your burrito of blankets.

Emily simply hummed in response and picked up the bowl, carefully spooning some soup and bringing it towards your mouth.

"I can do it myself, Em," you said indignantly. Emily quirked an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the cocoon you were wrapped in.

"You're cold."

"Am not."

"Are too, now just let me help you."

You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth, nearly moaning when the warm soup hit your tongue, the spices rich enough to make your nose drip. Emily spoon-fed you a few bites and then paused to wipe the corner of your lips with a napkin.

"This is amazing," you groaned. "I didn't know you could cook."

Emily brought more bites of the delicious soup to your mouth.

"It's one of the only things my dad and I ever spent time doing together," Emily said as she continued to feed you. "He wasn't home often and when he was, he often was roped into attending Society events with Mother. But the little free time he did spend around the house? He liked to make food and lots of it."

You watched on with curious eyes, listening intently as Emily shared a vulnerable piece of herself with you. Her voice was soft as she spoke of learning to cook with her father, with a reverence that spoke more than the actual words she was saying.

It wasn't long before the bowl of soup was empty and Emily was reaching for the closest box of tissues, holding one up for your to grab.

"Sorry, sunshine, I'm not gonna help you with this one," Emily said with a smirk on her face. You snorted a laugh and coughed a little before thanking the heavens that the soup cleared out your sinuses and you could smell for the first time in days. Once you were done, you shifted uncomfortably on the couch, not willing to lay down and lose the comfortable intimacy you were sharing with your partner.

Being a profiler, Emily immediately noticed your discomfort and adjusted herself on the couch, laying back slightly against the pillows and beckoning you with her hands.

"Come lay down, sweetheart. You've got to be exhausted."

You were hesitant, scooting forward some but not committing to getting any closer.

"I'm sick, Em. I don't wanna get you sick, too."

"I don't care that you're sick. I care that you need snuggles to get better, now come lay on my chest and let me rub your back."

It took a few seconds but you finally resigned yourself to Emily's demanding yet gentle eyes, falling forward and opening your cocoon so that you could wrap yourself around her and lay your head on her chest. You couldn't help but think about all the ways that Emily showed up for you today, in your sickness, without her even asking. She truly was a remarkable girlfriend and there was no doubt in your mind that you had won the girlfriend lottery.

"Try not to slobber on my skin, okay? The sweater is fair game but I draw the line at your snot on my neck," Emily said, a small chuckle rumbling in her chest.

You lifted your head and gave her a dopey smile. "I love you, Emily Prentiss."

Shock colored Emily's face and her mouth gaped open, neither of you had dared to share those words before. Slowly, her face melted into a grin and her eyes sparkled.

"I love you, too, sweet girl. So much. Now try to relax," she said, leaning to press a kiss to your forehead and then using her hand, guided you to lay back on her chest.

The two of you stayed snuggled like that for hours and Emily may or may not have called Hotch and said in no uncertain terms that she would not be coming into the office until you felt well enough to keep yourself fed and hydrated.