āBaby boy, honeybee
God, I love the way you look at meā
Aaron hotchner x Reader
Summary: For the world, Aaron Hotchner was a solid unreadable, intimidating men. For you, was everything. And for the team, it was the way he looked at you.
Tags: soft, mutual adoration, confort, full team on history, fluff, long, stablished relationship, proposal, no use of y/n, fem reader.
Autor note: I'm trying new ways of writing hope you'll like it. Still working on renegade pt.2 had this one on my drafts.
You didn't work as an agent at the BAU, your life was something entirely different from it. Still you always found time to make your way to the office ā at least when the team wasn't miles away for a case ā at this point it was usual for you to go a few minutes day by day.
The team, they could dissect a suspect's micro-expressions in milliseconds, map out a killerās psyche from a single crime scene photo, and track the slightest shift in human behavior.
Which was exactly why they all lived for the moments you walked through the double doors.
Whenever you dropped by āwhether it was to bring Hotch a forgotten file, drag him out for a mandatory lunch break, or just visitā the heavy, atmosphere of the office instantly shifted.
And, of course, there was the food.
"Tell me my nose isn't playing tricks on me" Morgan said, spinning around in his chair the moment the glass doors clicked open. A massive, devastating grin spread across his face as he spotted you carrying a large, tied-up box. "Please tell me those are your homemade cinnamon rolls"
"Fresh out of the oven" you laughed, walking down the steps into the office.
Instantly, the team descended. Garcia practically sprinted from her tech cave, her bright, colorful outfit contrasting beautifully with the drab office walls. "Oh, thank heaven! My sugar levels were reaching a critical, devastating low. You are an absolute angel sent from above"
"Save one for me before Spencer inhales the entire top row," JJ joked, stepping out of her office with a stack of papers, her tired eyes lighting up. Your cinnamon rolls were one of Spencer weakness, he could eat the entire box of you let him do so.
Within seconds, you were surrounded by the elite profiling unit, handing out homemade pastries like a mother hen tending to a flock of very exhausted, highly dangerous federal agents.
Rossi strolled out of his office, sniffing the air with an appreciative nod, while Spencer Reid began a rapid-fire, entirely unprompted lecture on the historical origins of yeast cultivation in 18th-century Europe, though his hand was already reaching into the box for a roll.
They loved you. To them, you weren't just the bossās girlfriend; you were family. You were the tether that kept them connected to a normal, gentle world.
But as much as they loved the baked goods, the real reason the BAU looked forward to your visits was standing up in his office, watching from behind the glass windows.
Aaron Hotchner was a man carved out of granite. To the rest of the BAU, the media, and the unsubs they tracked, Aaron Hotchner was an unreadable, intimidating force of nature. He wore a permanent, stern scowl. His dark eyes were usually sharp, calculating, and heavy with the weight of the cases that kept him awake at night. He rarely smiled, his lips almost always pressed into a thin, unyielding line, and his posture was rigid, a suit of absolute professionalism.
But then, he looked at you.
Something changed.
Subtly, almost invisible.
Up in his office, Hotch set his pen down. The moment your laughter carried up through the glass, something extraordinary happened. The team, being the hyper-observant profilers they were, immediately stopped talking. Out of pure instinct, six pairs of eyes subtly drifted away from you and locked onto the glass office above. They were profiling the boss.
Hotch walked out of his office and stepped up to the railing.
The transformation was subtle to an outsider, but to the BAU, it was a seismic shift. The moment his dark eyes found you standing in the center of the BAU office, the harsh, rigid lines of his face completely melted. The permanent crease between his eyebrows vanished. His shoulders, usually pulled tight with stress, noticeably relaxed.
Softening.
Warmer.
Caring.
But it was his eyes that gave him away entirely. The cold, analytical sharpness vanished, replaced by an intense, overwhelmingly soft warmth. It was a gaze of pure, unadulterated adoration āa look so private and fiercely loving that it felt like he was looking at the only person left in the entire worldā. As you walked towards him, a slow, genuine, and devastatingly handsome smile tugged at the corner of his lips, softening his entire face until he looked like a completely different man.
Back Down in the hallway, Morgan let out a low, quiet whistle, leaning closer to Prentiss. "Look at the man. Just look at him. Heās completely gone"
"It's fascinating" Reid murmured, chewing on his cinnamon roll, his analytical brain firing off data points. "Aaron's baseline heart rate and cortisol levels must drop by at least thirty percent the second she enters the room. His pupils dilate exactly four millimeters. Itās a physiological response to an intense oxytocin surge"
"Oh, hush, Einstein" Garcia whispered, clutching her hands over her heart as she watched Hotch make his way down the stairs toward you. "Itās not science, itās pure, beautiful magic. Look at how he looks at her! Like she literally hung the moon and stars just for him. I am weeping. I am actively weeping"
"He deserves it" Rossi said quietly, a soft, paternal smile on his face as he watched his old friend. "Lord knows that man needs someone who can make him look like he actually remembers how to breathe"
Hotch reached the bottom of the stairs, entirely oblivious to the fact that his entire team was currently dissecting his emotional state. He walked straight to find you, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Hey" he said, his deep, baritone voice dropping into a register that none of the agents ever heard in a briefing room. It was quiet, rough, and incredibly gentle.
"Hey, Boss" you teased softly, stepping forward to meet him.
Hotch didn't hesitate. In front of his entire team, completely ignoring the world, the files, and the Bureau politics, he reached out and placed a large, warm hand against the small of your back, pulling you gently into his space. He leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your temple, his eyes closing as he inhaled the familiar, comforting scent of you.
When he pulled back just an inch, he looked down at you, that soft, private smile returning to his face. The rest of the worldāand the six profilers blatantly staring at himācompletely ceased to exist.
After a short time talking to him, the soft, intimate bubble that had enveloped you bothwas completely shattered.
The demanding chirp of the his office phone echoed down, followed almost immediately by the sight of the team moving back to work.
Hotch closed his eyes for a brief momento as he heard the phone, didn't even have to look up to know what it meant. The subtle tension returned to his shoulders, the Unit Chief armor locking back into place as his professional instincts took over. He looked down at you, his thumb giving the small of your back one last, lingering squeeze through your clothes.
"We have a case" he murmured, his voice laced with a quiet, genuine regret that only you could detect. "The state police just called. Weāre wheels up in twenty minutes" he said at loud for all te team.
"Go save lives, Love" you replied softly, giving his arm a reassuring pat. "The team has their sugar. They're ready" you winked at him.
"Hey, thanks for the fuel!" Morgan called out, already snatching his jacket from his chair and tossing a file onto his desk. The rest of the team shifted into high gear with terrifying efficiency.
JJ was grabbing her phone, Reid was stacking books, and Prentiss was already heading toward the stairs.
Hotch grabbed the lunch box youād packed specifically for him, giving you one last deep, melting look before turning to face the stairs. "I'll call you" he promised, his voice returning to its firm, authoritative baseline as he began barking out orders to the team.
...................
It was nearly three weeks later when the dust finally settled. The case had been grueling, stretching across three states and costing the team nights of sleep, but they had finally brought the unsub down. To celebrate making it back in one piece, you and Aaron had opened up your home for a long-overdue backyard dinner.
The evening was perfect. The harsh fluorescent lights of Quantico were replaced by the warm, amber glow of string lights stretched across your patio. The smell of Rossiās secret marinade was wafting from the grill, and the sound of laughter echoed.
Garcia was in her absolute element. Equipped with a high-end digital camera sheād brought specifically for the occasion, she was flitting around the yard like a colorful butterfly, determined to document every single ounce of joy.
"Say cheese, my beautiful profiling family!" Garcia chirped, snapping a photo of Morgan and Reid aggressively debating the physics of lawn darts near the fence.
On the other side of the patio, you were leaning against the wooden railing, completely engrossed in a conversation with JJ. You were laughing, holding a glass of wine, listening to her recount a hilarious story about Henry's latest preschool antics. Your hair was slightly down, your face bright and relaxed in the evening air.
A few yards away, Aaron was standing by the food table, listening to Rossi talk about a vintage wine. But he wasn't actually listening to him.
Unbeknownst to you, his gaze had drifted right back to where you were standing. He was leaning against the table, a plate in one hand, completely captivated.
Garcia, panning her camera across the yard looking for the next candid shot, paused. She zoomed in on Hotch, and her breath caught in her throat. Through the lens, she saw it.
The granite man was completely gone. Aaron was looking across the patio at you with that exact, fiercely protective, intensely adoring gaze. His lips were parted in a soft, private smile as he just watched you laugh with JJ, his eyes shining with a quiet devotion so deep it looked almost sacred.
Click.
Garcia snapped the picture, her heart practically bursting.
A week later, back at the office, you dropped by the BAU to pick up Aaron for dinner. As you passed Garciaās tech cave, she frantically waved you inside, her face practically glowing with excitement.
"Look at thr monitor. Look at it right now!" she squealed, pointing at her massive screen.
You leaned over her shoulder, and the breath left your lungs. It was the photo from the barbecue. On the right side of the frame, you and JJ were blurred in the foreground, caught mid-laugh. But the camera had perfectly focused on Aaron in the background.
He was looking right at you. The expression captured on his face was so profoundly tender, so utterly stripped of the darkness he carried every day, that it made your throat ache. He looked like a man who had found his entire universe in a single person.
Love.
Fate.
Longing.
"I call it 'The Profile of Absolute Love," Garcia whispered, a tear actually pooling in her eye as she looked up at you. "Because honeybee... the way that man looks at you? Itās like youāre the only piece of good left in the entire world"
And you knew it, you woke up every morning with him at your side, his smile.
Soft.
Warm.
His eyes, the look of them when his eyes landed on you, the way he looked at every space of your face. His gaze tracing it as if he wanted to make a picture of it on his mind, just for him.
His fingers, tracing your arms, your chin, your, lips.
Slow.
Carefully.
Caring.
But you just never thought that the outside world was witness of the love that the has for you. Not like this, so open, like he wanted to scream, but without words.
You stared at the monitor, the ambient hum of Garciaās tech cave fading into a distant buzz.
Your throat felt tight, and a strange, beautiful warmth bloomed in your chest. You loved Aaronādeeply, fiercelyā and you had always loved the quiet intensity of his eyes. But seeing it captured like this, frozen in silver pixels, was entirely different. It wasn't just a look of affection; it was a gaze of total surrender from a man who never surrendered to anything. It was raw, exposed, and utterly timeless.
"I... I don't even know what to say, Pen" you whispered.
"You don't have to say anything, honeybee" Garcia said softly, her usual bubbly energy settling into something incredibly sweet. "The picture says it all"
Without telling you, Garcia quietly pulled up her email client, attached the high-resolution file, and hit send. The recipient: [email protected].
Upstairs in his office, the quiet chime of a new email broke Aaronās concentration. He moved his mouse, clicking open the message from his technical analyst. He expected a case update, a lingering data sheet, or perhaps a humorous meme Garcia used to lighten the mood.
Instead, the image loaded.
Aaron froze. He sat back slowly in his leather chair, the heavy silence of his office wrapping around him. He stared at the photograph for what felt like hours, his analytical brain completely off. He looked at the way his own shoulders were relaxed, the way the harsh lines of his face had entirely dissolved, and most of all, the way his eyes were locked onto you in the background. The way a soft, small smile lingered on him.
He had spent years profiling human behavior, calculating risks, and predicting the next move. But looking at himself through Garcia's lens, the absolute truth of his own soul was laid bare. He had loved you for years, but in this exact, quiet moment, a profound, unshakable clarity washed over him. The weight of the past, the darkness of his job, the walls he built to protect himself, broken.
I need her to be with me for the rest of my life, he thought, the realization striking him not with panic, but with a deep, settling peace. I'm not letting another day go by without making her my wife.
The drive back to your home later that evening was quiet, but it wasn't the heavy, exhausted silence that usually followed a long week at the BAU.
Aaron was unusually grounded, his hand resting firmly over yours, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles over your knuckles.
When you walked through the front door, you tossed your keys onto the entryway table and turned around to ask him what he wanted for dinner.
You didn't get the words out.
Aaron hadn't even taken off his suit jacket. He closed the distance between you in two long strides, his large hands coming up to gently cup your face, his fingers tangling into your hair. He leaned down and kissed you. Not a rushed evening greeting, but a deep, breathless, incredibly reverent kiss that made your knees feel weak.
When he finally pulled back just an inch, his forehead rested against yours. His breathing was slightly ragged, and when you opened your eyes, you saw it. Right there, inches from your face, was the exact same look from Garcia's photograph. The adoring, melting warmth that belonged entirely to you.
"Aaron" you whispered, your heart doing a sudden, nervous flip. "I love you"
"I love you too, darling" he murmured, his deep baritone voice thick with an emotion so raw it made your breath catch. He took a slow step back, his hands sliding down your arms until he was holding both of your hands tightly in his. "And for the first time in a very long time, everything is perfectly right"
He took a deep breath, and before your brain could even process what was happening, Aaron Hotchnerāthe unyielding, stoic Unit Chief of the BAUādropped down onto one knee on the hardwood floor of your entryway.
Your gasp echoed in the quiet apartment, your hands instantly flying to cover your mouth as tears rushed to your eyes.
He didn't have a velvet box. He hadn't planned a grand dinner or a speech. He just looked up at you, completely stripped of his professional armor, his dark eyes shining with a fierce, unwavering devotion.
"Garcia sent me the photo today" Aaron said softly, his voice trembling just a fraction, though his gaze never wavered. "And looking at it... I realized something I think Iāve known since the very first day you walked into my life. I spent so long thinking I had to keep my world dark to keep you safe, but the truth is, you are the only reason I can find my way out of the dark at all"
He squeezed your hands, his fingers warm and solid.
"I don't want to just come home to you anymore. I want to build a life with you. I want the promise of you every single morning and every single night. I know my life is complicated, and I know the world we live in can be ugly... but if you'll have me, I promise to spend every day of the rest of my life loving you exactly the way I was looking at you in that picture"
Aaron swallowed hard, his eyes searching yours with a beautiful, desperate vulnerability. "Will you marry me?"
The tears finally spilled over your cheeks as you instantly dropped to your knees right in front of him, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder.
"Yes" you choked out, sobbing softly against his suit jacket as his massive arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you so close that the space between you completely disappeared.
"Yes, Aaron. A million times, yes"
Holding you in the quiet of your home, Aaron let out a long, shuddering breath of pure relief, his lips pressing a fierce, grateful kiss against your neck. Right here, in the warmth of his arms, the ground was finally solid.
.................
Days after that ā when Aaron had already bought a ring for you ā. You both agreed that it was time to tell the team the good news.
Morgan was leaning against his desk, turning a pen over in his fingers while reviewing a localized map. JJ and Emily were standing near, speaking in low tones about a minor detail from their last report. Reid was entirely buried behind a massive stack of research journals, while Rossi stood nearby, pouring his first proper cup of espresso.
The heavy doors of the BAU clicked open.
The team looked up out of pure habit. You and Aaron walked down the steps together.
"Morning, team" Aaron announced. His voice carried its usual deep, steady authority, but as he stepped into the room, there was a subtle, almost imperceptible lightness to his posture.
He didn't look at his desk, and he didn't immediately ask for the morning briefing. Instead, he stole a quick, highly private look down at you, a soft, knowing glance full of an unspoken, shared secret.
"Hey, look who's here!" Morgan smiled, tossing his pen onto the desk. "Two mornings in a row? We're getting spoiled. Tell me there are more pastries, or I'm going to be deeply disappointed"
"Good morning, honeybee!" Garciaās voice chimed enthusiastically as she stepped out of her tech cave, her bright earrings jingling as she walked over to join the circle. "You look absolutely radiant today"
You smiled at them "Sorry D but there is no cinnamon rolls today" you looked back at Morgan. "Thanks Pen you look absolutely brilliant today dear".
JJ agreed warmly, offering you a bright smile. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing amazing, actually" you said, your voice full of an excitement you could barely contain.
You stood right beside Aaron, matching his steady frame. You caught his eye one more time, seeing that devastatingly handsome, proud smile tugging at the very edge of his lips. He gave you a tiny, encouraging nod.
With a dramatic, playful sigh, you lifted your left hand, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your faceāensuring your fingers stayed raised just long enough for the bullpen lights to catch the brilliant, sparkling diamond resting securely on your ring finger.
For a second, time completely stopped in the BAU.
Garcia was the first to process the visual. Her eyes went wide. She let out a sound that wasn't even human, a high-pitched, breathless squeak
"Oh..." Garcia gasped, clutching her hands over her mouth, her entire body shaking. "Oh my god. Oh my god! Is thatāis that what I think it is?!"
JJās gaze snapped down to your hand, and her jaw dropped. "No way" she whispered, a massive, brilliant smile breaking across her face as she took a step toward you. "Aaron?!"
"Shut up" Morgan muttered, his head snapping from your hand to Hotch's face, his eyes full of pure shock before a huge, triumphant grin took over. He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing through the bullpen. "No kidding! The man finally did it!"
"Statistically speaking" Reid blurted out, his head popping out from behind his tower of books, his eyes wide as he stared at the ring, "the probability of Aaron proposing without a meticulous six-month logistical plan was incredibly low, but according to my current visual dataā"
"Reid, stop talking about math!" Emily laughed loudly, completely abandoning her files and rushing over to throw her arms around your shoulders in a massive, tight hug. "Oh, congratulations! I am so, so happy for you both!"
Rossi didn't say a word at first. He just stood by the railing, a deeply satisfied, incredibly proud paternal smile spreading across his face. He lifted his espresso mug toward Aaron in a silent, respectful toast. "About time, Aaron" he murmured softly. "About damn time".
Within seconds, the entire team devolved into absolute, joyful chaos. Garcia practically tackled you next, weeping tears of pure joy onto your shoulder. "I knew it! I knew 'The Profile of Absolute Love' would do its magic! I am printing that photo on canvas! I am framing it! Oh, look at you two!"
Through all the shouting, the hugs, and the laughter, you looked over at your new fiancƩ.
Aaron was standing right there, completely surrounded by his team. Morgan was aggressively clapping him on the shoulder, shaking his hand with a fierce grin, while Rossi stepped up to give him a warm nod of approval.
For the first time he was smiling completely.
openly.
brilliantly.
His dark eyes found yours through the crowd of celebrating agents, looking at you with that exact, timeless look of absolute adoration. He ignored the chaos, reached out through the huddle, and took your hand, locking his fingers tightly with yours.
"So" Morgan chuckled, leaning back against the desk with his arms crossed, looking at his boss with immense respect. "Are we officially calling her the First Lady of the BAU now, Hotch?"
"She's been the boss of this entire operation for years, Morgan" Aaron replied smoothly, his deep voice full of pride as he squeezed your hand. "We're just making it official"
