“Hey Honey, I’m gonna make some cookies. Do you want to help?” You call out from the kitchen. Jack was at a sleepover and Aaron had gotten a rare day off. So you were going to make the most of it with him.
“I’ll help. Just keep it clean and don’t call me honey” he says already knowing that a mess would definitely be made in the kitchen. You pouted at him. You loved giving him stupid nicknames and you think he secretly likes it too. He just may not like honey. You’re determined to find one he likes.
You grabbed all the necessary ingredients to make your Grandma’s famous Hunkin Lovin Chocolate Chip Cookies.
“Hey honey bunches, could you grab the flour from the top shelf?” You test out the name as you frown. You bake a lot, so you’re not sure why he insists on keeping the flour on the top shelf. What he doesn’t tell you, is that he likes having to grab the one item for you. Just so he feels useful.
Being useful was not what he was doing at the moment, as he dropped the flour… Right on top of you. “Oh my gosh. Y/N, are you ok?” He flusters out. That was a full bag of flour, on top of your head, so it had to hurt.
You pout at him, “No. That hurt bub.” You clutch your head because that bag hurts. If Morgan heard about this, he would definitely tease you about being weak. And you could not deal with that. “I’m ok. I’ll be fine. I just need some medicine” you say, trying to reassure yourself more than him. You were not about to be weak.
Aaron can see the look in your eye. He can tell something’s going on in your brain,”Darling, let’s just lay down, take a nap. The cookies will still be there.”
You shake your head, “If we take a nap, that wastes my time with you.” You mumble as tears form in your eyes. You wanted this day to be good. You rarely got to spend time together and you didn’t want to spend the only time you had with him asleep. “I’m fine. Just hand me the damn medicine so we can salvage some flour for the cookies.”
“I guess your big head busted the bag, Y/N. I can go get some more,” he says apologetically. He knew these cookies were one of the last things from your family, and it was tradition to make them on the first day of December.
“So much for keeping it clean, Hotchner,” you mumble out as you try to salvage enough flour to make cookies. Most of it ended up on the floor, but you realize there might be enough still in the bag.
You look over in confusion as he leans down, putting a hand in the flour. “Are you gonna clean the floor by-“ you get interrupted with a cloud of flour. “You did not just throw flour at me,” you shriek, “You’re cleaning this up.”
You smirk. He was gonna have to clean this up, and you got to sit and drink wine and watch. So you could definitely add to the chaos. You grab a big handful and throw it at his face.
Before you know it, a full blown flour war has emerged in the kitchen. Flour was everywhere. Aaron puts his hands up in the air, in surrender “Truce?” he asks. You stare at him with a questioning look, that slowly turns into a grin.
His hair was ruffled with a few pieces sticking up. Flour dusted the top of his hair with a few larger clumps in areas. He looked cute and he was yours.
“Well?” he asks, his hands still in the air, perfect for a target.
You throw one last handful of flour in his face before smiling and sticking your hand out. “Truce” you nod as you say it as if to confirm no more flower.
He stares at you flabbergasted that you would do such a thing. He puts his hand to his chance in mock awe. “I’ve been betrayed. My own partner. I’m shocked”
You laugh at his theatrics. You shake your head and grin up at him. Your grin growing bigger as you speak “You’re gonna be even more betrayed when I tell you I’m going to take a shower and you have to clean this up. Have fun bubs!” As you walk away you start laughing and turn just in time to see his shocked face turn into a pout.
You realize you’ve said bubs twice now and he hasn’t gotten onto you. New nickname unlocked.
