a welcome distraction

CRYING so sweet 🥲 cw; fem!reader, newly established relationship, food descriptions, pure fluff <3

The longer Aaron stared at the file, the more the words seemed to blur together. He’s been at it for hours now, and at this point, the furrow between his brows was beginning to feel permanent. Honestly, the sudden soft knock at the door was a welcome distraction. 

He expected it to be someone on the team - tedious annual reviews had kept people cycling through his office all day. Penelope, for example, had been in and out more times than he could count. He was pleasantly surprised to see you instead.

"Oh, hi sweetheart," he greeted as his posture straightened, his eyes softening almost instantly.

A smile slowly spread across your face as you walked over to meet him. "Hi, I hope this isn't a bad time."

"Not at all." He didn’t hesitate to push away from his desk, the chair quietly scraping against the floor as he stood. One hand naturally found your hip, gently pulling you closer while the other settled against your side. He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

"This is a nice surprise," he admitted quietly, still standing close. "What brings you here?"

"I brought you some brownies."

You reached into your tote and pulled out a Tupperware. Inside sat a few brownies, still warm, dusted with powdered sugar.

"I had to sneak them past your team," you explained as you handed the container over, laughing softly. "Which, by the way, way harder than I expected."

"That sounds about right," he chuckled softly. You had only met them twice before, but you knew enough to know that the second anything sweet entered the room, they would have absolutely hounded you. Then again, they barely needed an excuse to crowd around you whenever you visited.

His laugh, however, faded a little faster than he would have liked. After hours of paperwork, meetings, and people pulling him in every direction, the exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him. He could already feel the familiar pull of tension settling across his forehead.

You noticed, reaching out to cup his face. A faint blush appeared on your own cheeks, still getting used to where your comfort with public affection began and ended. "I could tell you were having a rough morning by the way you were texting. I thought that maybe this would help."

Now that he thought about it, he had been a little short earlier. It hadn't been intentional; a little less affectionate, less of the effortless back and forth he usually found himself falling into with you, more rushed. At the time, he hadn’t even realized he was doing it.

His expression softened into something almost boyish for a moment, exhaustion still lingering behind his eyes but no longer quite as heavy. "Thank you. You didn't need to do that."

"I know." Your lips lifted sweetly at the ends. "I wanted to." You perched up on your toes, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before stepping back slightly. "Anyways, I don't want to keep you-"

"No please, stay." He insisted, his free hand grabbing yours before you had the chance to move. "I could use a break."

You eyed the paperwork piled on his desk, your gaze shooting over to the bullpen as well. "Are you sure? I don't want to be a distraction, or if anyone needs you..."

Maybe it was the warmth of your hand in his. Maybe it was finally having something other than paperwork sitting in front of him. Or maybe, it was simply you.

Whatever it was, the thought of letting you walk back out the door suddenly sounded terrible.

Still holding your hand, he guided you around the desk before lowering himself back into his chair. And with a gentle tug, he pulled you onto his lap, a small giggle escaping you. The movement felt practiced. Familiar. A weight lifted from his shoulders, some of the tension he’d been carrying all day easing for what felt like the first time in hours.

One arm settled naturally around your waist, leaving you with no choice but to remain close. Not that you minded. "Share a brownie with me."

"Is that an order, Hotch?" You raised your eyebrows playfully, though absolutely no persuasion was needed. They then narrowed, "you know, the longer I'm here, the more suspicious it is. Someone's going to come in and be a brownie thief."

Would you consider a follow up on the latest one with reader gone for the night?

I can imagine it’s not easy for Ellie the rest of the night with bedtime etc.!

night shift

our poor ellie 🥺 cw; fem!reader, girl dad!aaron, domestic fluff/comfort <3

It had been a rough night for Ellie, and that was putting it mildly.

After you left for your night out, she sat solemnly by the front door for a while, despite Aaron’s attempts to comfort her and his promises to play whatever game or watch whatever movie or show she wanted. All he got in response were harsh cries and tearful demands for you. 

When she finally wandered back to join him and Jack on her own, she seemed quieter than before - distracted, almost - and for a little while, Aaron thought maybe the worst of it had passed.

Then bedtime came.

She was overtired; the earlier meltdown had completely worn her out, and without her usual bedtime routine, without you, she seemed lost. Antsy and not herself. It also didn’t help that it was already past her normal bedtime.

But then Aaron grabbed the wrong pajamas, and all hell broke loose. 

Eventually, he managed to calm her down enough to get changed (into the right pajamas), brush her teeth, and now the three of them - Aaron, Ellie, and Jack - were crammed together in her tiny bed, Ellie wedged safely in the middle while Aaron read bedtime story after bedtime story.

"Okay, I think that’s enough for tonight." Aaron said after the fifth book, closing it it with exaggerated finality and repeating the line for the second time in the hope that maybe, this time, she’d agree.

Of course, she didn’t.

"One more," Ellie protested immediately, a pout settling on her face as she tugged the blankets tighter beneath her chin. 

"Ellie..." His expression and voice softened, he was bound to read her entire bookshelf at this rate. Usually, she would’ve fallen asleep halfway through the stories, but she was stubbornly fighting it. He couldn’t blame her; tonight’s routine was just too different. "It's getting late. You gotta get to sleep, sweetheart."