Chapter Text
“How do I look?”
“I thought you were at an ugly sweater day with Penny, not a pretty sweater one!” Emily’s smile as she leans in closer to kiss you is something you’d never thought you’d see.
“Only you, Em,” you roll your eyes, letting out a yelp as she grabs you and pulls you in, the passionate kiss making you forget everything around you. When she finally let you go, she pushed you towards your bed, a cocky grin at the dazed smile on your face.
“You sure we need to bake, baby?” she pressed tiny, teasing kisses along your neck, one hand holding her over you, the other sneaking under the hem of your sweater. Letting out a groan, you try to slowly - really slowly - push her off of you, your smile widening at the pout on her lips. “Do we have to?” she whines, collapsing the rest of her weight onto you. You chuckle, not wanting to leave your bed either. “You promised me a gingerbread village, Em!’
“But,” her hands continue tracing your skin as she teases you by going lower and lower, her lust evident in her eyes.
“Em,” you whine, trying to flash your most pleading eyes, “My cookies.”
“You really need to stop pouting at me if you want me to stop, baby” she whispers. You can picture her cocky grin as she starts kissing a hickey into your skin. Her lips come off you with a soft pop leading you to moan. “Or making such delicious sounds. You make it so hard to not keep you in my bed when you sound so pretty. Now, do you want those cookies, or will you let me take care of you?”
Your determination starts to crumble, and she grins triumphantly at you, her hands effortlessly pushing your top off your shoulders over your head, but then the doorbell rings.
You look at her disappointed face sheepishly, the guilt starting to eat at you as you admit that it might be the delivery guy.
"The delivery guy,” she repeats, puzzled as you hasten to put your sweater back on.
You make it out of the doorway, your room, and start to open the door, but she makes it to the door first, her not-so amused expression at the clearly labeled almond milk sitting in your bag. “I got oat milk too, Em.”
She sighs. “Soy as well!” you add before quickly waving off the delivery guy, a tip in his hand.
“Almond milk, though?"
Before she can say another word, you tug her sweater and pull her down, muster the biggest kiss you can offer, grab the bag from her hands, and make a dash for your kitchen.
Her laughter behind you, you quickly set to take all of the new ingredients out on your counter.
“Are these the right molasses,” you call out, unsure why you’re involving her, when her arms encircle your waist. You giggle as she peers over your shoulder and reads the label. You can feel the grumpy pout on her lips, and you smile.
Three months ago, when you were pacing this very apartment, all alone except for the growing pile of throw pillows you were impulse buying, you never would've imagined being so happy. Especially during winter.
But here you were, with the love of your life in your arms, a smile almost ever on your face, and reconnecting with the team. So much and so little had happened in such a short time, and although there were bad days amongst the many good ones, you were both finding your place in each other’s lives, as well as in your own.
You measure out the ingredients, not minding the way she holds onto you as you shuffle across your kitchen, especially when she reaches above you to grab the spices you had forgotten off of the shelf.
“Oat milk, right,” her voice finally breaks out. You arch your head to the side, a wider grin as you point to the fridge and nod.
Maybe this was what happily ever after was all about - the comfortable weight of your girlfriend draped around you as you make a mess of your kitchen, the triumphant cheers as your cookies come out of your oven unburnt, and her soft smile when you offer the royal icing bowl before guiltily taking it back to lick it yourself. Whatever your future brought you, you know that there would never be a winter night too cold for you to bear ever again, not with Emily in your arms.