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softtdaisy · 3 days ago
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do they know about us / Aaron Hotchner
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summary. The five times the team almost learned about Hotch dating the babysitter, the one time they did.
words count. 6 027
what to expect. honestly pure fluff, hotch is a teen in love with his girlfriend, a little angst at the end but nothing too serious
a/n. this is officially the longest fic I have ever written here and I'm really happy about sharing it with you, I couldn't say goodbye to hotch and the babysitter so here it is 🥹 and here is the first one about them in case you want to read it
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1. The message
After Hotch started dating you, he realized how hard it was to keep something private with the team. Every single thing seemed suspicious to him.
Speaking about the babysitter felt weird now. He had to think about the words he used to talk about you. To not say too much but not speak less either, so the team won’t ask questions. He also realized he used a different tone to speak about you now. So he tried to be more careful when you were in the conversation.
But sometimes, he couldn’t avoid the signs that something different was going on.
Emily was the first one to notice it. They were coming back from a case, still on the jet, when he got a text from you. More exactly, pictures of you and Jack.
You brought him to a Mardi Gras event at the local library. And if Hotch remembered that Jack had to be dressed up, his son never wanted to tell him the costume. He kept saying it would be a surprise. Sadly, Hotch couldn’t be there to see it, but you promised to send pictures through the day. And so he did receive them during the flight. Pictures of Jack and you dressed as FBI agents. 
“Jack said we only miss our chief to be the greatest team.”
“You’re the chief, btw.”
“But I told him we did a great job together without you; we don’t need a chief.”
He laughed at your pun, which made Emily look up in confusion. Most of the team was sleeping or doing something else; she was the only one that noticed the change in Hotch's behavior. Emily knew her chief wasn’t the type to watch silly videos on his phone. “So what is making you so happy?” he asked.
And for a second, Hotch considered lying. He loved the idea of keeping this moment for himself. Like a kind of bubble only he could enjoy. 
Yet, his phone was already in Emily’s hand to see the picture before he could change his mind and find an excuse. 
He wasn’t surprised to see a smile grow on her face; you two looked absolutely adorable. If you tried to keep a straight face, Jack was all smiles, too proud to dress as his dad. Hotch didn’t know how since he couldn’t remember showing you his badge, but you even managed to create one similar for Jack. The time you were taking to make everything for his son was warming his heart. 
But then he noticed a sudden change in her expression. And heard her laugh. “Lucky you,” she teased him, handing him back his phone. Right away, he started questioning the meaning of it. He guessed it has something to do with you—but what? Was it because you were taking care of Jack so dearly? Because you were a very great babysitter? Was it about your look, your nice behavior?
There were so many things to be lucky for about you, and he couldn’t put his finger on the specific one Emily saw. So Hotch stayed confused. At least, until he saw the last text you sent him a few seconds ago.
“It’s a joke; please come home to us safely; we miss you xx.”
He could feel the heat in his cheeks, blushing. And nothing could have prevented the smile growing on his lips when he read it. This lasted for a second before he built his stoic figure back. 
But it was too late. Emily saw his reaction. Out of respect, she moved and closed her eyes to give him privacy. She still heard the way his fingers were tapping a text quickly, like a teenager trying to hide something from his parents.
“I miss you too.”
2. The blunder
“He looks happier.” Hotch heard JJ say next to him.
Rossi had invited everyone to his mansion after another rough case. They all clearly needed a moment to put work aside and enjoy each other's company. Rossi had insisted on making it a family moment, so they all brought their partners and kids. Well, Hotch brought Jack with him. 
He considered inviting you too; he even talked about it with you after he came back from Indiana with the offer. 
“It’s not that I don’t want Aaron; let’s agree on that.” you started your argument with. You were still in bed, your hand running through his chest with tenderness. You might have added more to make sure he knew it wasn’t a question of feelings or shame about your relationship. “But it might be confusing for them that you brought the babysitter, but she’s not the babysitter, she’s your girlfriend, see what I mean? They have all seen me taking care of Jack and might expect me to do the same that night. And I would probably feel obligated to do it too, because I’m not part of your team.”
When you looked up, you saw that Hotch was looking at you, concentrating on your words. But the way his hand was still brushing your hair softly, you knew he wasn’t mad about what you were saying.
“And you would probably feel a little lost on how to act with me, with them, and I don’t want that for you.” you added. You moved a little so you could rest against him, your chin on his chest. “You’re not mad?”
“Never,” he replied with the softest smile.
And at the dinner, Hotch was impressed by how you perfectly pointed out the situation. It was obvious now that everything you said would have happened, even if he tried to work against it. There was always someone playing with Jack and Henry—this time being Spencer—and it would have been you most of the time if you were here.
He didn’t realize immediately that JJ had joined him in the contemplation of the two kids playing. Not until now. He turned around, asking for precision by simply frowning. ���Jack,” she said. “He looks happier these days.”
Hotch couldn’t deny it. If Jack had always been a happy kid, a pure sunshine in his life, he noticed a change in his behavior these past months. He seemed even more open, his laugh always echoing in the house. 
The years following Haley’s disappearance haven’t been easy, neither for Hotch nor for Jack. And with the amount of effort he was putting in to make his son feel better, he knew he didn’t have all the cards to fulfill his mom’s absence. 
And not that Hotch ever thought you could replace Haley. It had never been the topic, either before or even now that you started dating. Haley would always be his only mother, and Hotch would make sure to keep her memory alive as long as he was on Earth.
Yet, he wouldn’t be honest if he said you didn’t have a great effect on Jack. You were treating Jack as a friend and taking care of him like he was your own child. He could never be thankful enough for your presence in their life.
Hotch bit his tongue, almost calling you by your name. “His babysitter does a very great job with him.” 
“I should consider hiring her too.” JJ said, which made Hotch choke on his drink. Hopefully, the boys running to them made that moment go unnoticed.
“What are you talking about, Mommy?” Henry asked when JJ took him in her arms. Hotch loved the way she said it was about you, like you were some magical creature. He felt that way about you too.
He went straight back to reality when he heard Jack ask, “Is she sleeping at home tonight? I love when she does!” He sounded genuinely happy and excited at the idea of having you around. Which was reassuring, in some way. But Hotch noticed JJ's reaction in the corner of his eyes. How she was pinching her lips to not laugh or make any remark. 
He kneeled in front of his son, putting a hand on his shoulder nicely. “I don’t think so, buddy.” When Jack pouted, Hotch looked around even if it was already too late to change what JJ had heard. “But we can call her tomorrow if you want.” More than the idea of asking for the babysitter when he wasn’t working, tomorrow was Sunday. You weren’t supposed to be working. JJ wasn’t an idiot; she knew that too.
The implication being that it was too big to be ignored. Yet, she still decided to act like nothing happened to not embarrass Hotch even more. Soon, the subject changed, and you weren’t part of any conversation.
But when they arrived at Hotch’s place after the dinner, Jack’s wish happened. You were sitting in the corridor, beside the door. Waiting with your phone in hand. 
“You realized you could have waited inside?” He asked in a low voice once he moved closer to you.
You looked up to him and melted at the view of him carrying Jack in his arms so easily. The boy was asleep against him, his little face buried in Hotch’s neck. You couldn’t resist taking his little hand and squeezing it softly once you got up. There was something so familiar in being welcomed by this view. By these men. Your men.
“I didn’t want to show up uninvited,” you whispered, still brushing Jack’s hand while looking up at your boyfriend.
Hotch gave you a kiss on the forehead. Something he got used to doing with you, especially when Jack was around. Even if the boy was sleeping, none of you felt comfortable kissing in front of him. “You’re always welcome.”
You followed him inside and were left alone while he went to Jack’s bedroom to put him in bed. You just got the time to get comfortable and sat on the couch when he came back. He put another kiss on your hair before sitting next to you. You didn’t waste another second before cuddling against him. You loved the way his cologne was still captivating after hours. You could stay with your nose buried in his neck all night.
“Jack told JJ that you often sleep here,” he said, running his hand on your lower back. You looked up with confusion and a playful smile. He then told you how much he wanted you to be here and how happy he would be tomorrow morning to see you.
“I’m glad to be there with you too.” your smile never left your lips, not when you moved to kiss Hotch.
A kiss he used to show you how happy he was that you were.
3. The stains
The whole morning has been just a big race against time for Hotch.
You went on a date last night in a very classy restaurant. One of the few real dates you got to do since you started dating. Not that any of you minded; spending time with each other was already a perfect date. 
This one was really special. It reminded you that sure, Hotch was older than you, but he had the manners and the ways that no other men ever had with you. Holding every door for you, pulling the chair at the restaurant, showing affection without being too possessive, and always making sure you were the only thing in his mind the whole night.
If he had to bring you home after it, you had classes very early the next morning; things got hot in his car. It had been a long time since Hotch let his desire speak for him outside his very private apartment. But locked in the car with you looking this beautiful, he couldn’t resist it. 
When he went to sleep, you were still all he could think about. The way your hand went down his chest to his crotch, making him feel good while your lips couldn’t leave his neck. He couldn’t even remember if he did much for you; all he knew was that you put him first. And he couldn’t thank you enough for that.
But it was only 5 am when his phone rang, a new case for the team. 
Hotch had too much to think about. Getting dressed. Taking his travel bag. Calling Jessica to ask her to keep Jack while he was away and preparing stuff she could grab for his son during the day. Making sure everything was safe at his place. Telling you that he was leaving and you didn’t have to take care of Jack. Driving safely, too. 
When he arrived in the office, everybody but Derek was there. “So what do we have?” Hotch asked, as he sat in the same chair; he felt like he left only hours ago.
But nobody answered. Actually, they were all looking at him with a mix of surprised and amused expressions. Something he didn’t understand until the missing member entered the room.
“Sorry, I had a hard time leaving my girl behind.” Derek with a flirty tone, which made Emily roll her eyes. But before he sat, he landed his eyes on Hotch and let out a laugh. “Apparently I’m not the only one,” he added, pointing to his chief.
Hotch looked down, trying to understand the private joke he was the center of. And then he saw it. 
The red lipstick stains on his very white collar.
In the haste, he grabbed the shirt he had last night with you. And he for sure missed the marks you let on him. Not that he was surprised about them; he could perfectly remember how you couldn’t stop kissing him in the car. 
Actually, he even started blushing at the thought of the little biting mark he probably still had on his neck. He had to fight hard against the need to put a hand on his skin to feel it. He couldn’t even remember having a hickey when he was younger, and certainly not that type of mark. But apparently there was no age to have a first time. 
He cleared his throat and put both his hands on the table, acting like this was just a normal thing to see. “So what do we have?” he repeated, once again.
He saw the different expressions on each member of the team: the pride on Rossi’s face, Emily and Derek being amused, Spencer trying to follow the whole conversation, and the understanding smile on JJ, who probably understood what happened. 
And during the whole brief, all Hotch could think about was changing his shirt before he got on the plane.
And sending you a text to tell you all about it.
4. The phone call
Passing your test successfully was the first sunray of this beautiful day.
Having Hotch come to pick you up at university was the whole sunshine.
You wished there was a way to memorize forever the image of him, standing against his car, in his casual dark blue polo and dark blue jeans, wearing his sunglasses and being on his phone, patiently waiting for you. He looked like some movie star. And proud was a euphemism when you heard some of your classmates wondering who the hot dad was waiting for.
You quickly ran to him, just at the right pace to see the smile growing on his face when he saw you. Once you were close, his hands were soon on your hips to keep you against him. “We did it?” he asked with a proud voice. 
“We fucking nailed it,” you replied, crossing your arms around his neck.
The “good girl” he whispered before kissing you with so much tenderness gave you chills that you didn’t even know could be this big. But mostly prepared you for what was coming.
You spend the whole ride telling him about your day and your exam with his hand firmly on your thigh. Sometimes his fingers would brush it softly; per moment, he would squeeze it, already thinking about all the things he wanted to do to you.
So there was no surprise when you arrived at his place that Hotch would take things in hand. And the only thing on his mind is you. 
He moved to your side of the car to open the door and offered his hand to help you. But soon, the gentleman was out of view.
“Aaron!” you laughed when he put his hands under your thighs to lift you up and held you against him. He made you feel like you were as light as a feather by carrying you around so easily. You loved the cheeky smile on his face when he put a kiss on your lips before walking to his house.
“What if the neighbors see us?” you said, playing with the short in his neck. If you barely see anyone when you come here, and you spend a lot of time in this building, most people still know that you were the babysitter. And that you were clearly younger than Hotch. Not that you cared about people’s opinions, but the man looking at you like his favorite dessert was more concerned about that from what you knew.
“What would they say?” he asked, calling the elevator. Once inside, he started kissing your skin, his face buried in your neck. You loved the feeling of his soft but a little dry lips against your skin; it was a feeling only he could give you. 
“I don’t know that you’re fucking the babysitter?” You replied, but you were containing your moans so hard that you weren’t even sure you spoke clearly. 
Not until he stopped kissing you to look up at you. “Would they be wrong?”
“Aaron Hotchner, I didn’t know you were that type of man,” you replied with a fake shocked look on your face. But the laugh you caused him made you break, because at the end that was all you wanted to see. He is happy and carefree.
The whole journey from the elevator to his place was a distant memory. All you knew was that soon you were sitting on his counter, your legs around his waist. His hands were all over you. 
It amazed you how composed this man was. Because Hotch was losing his mind kissing you again and again but still managed to take off your shirt without missing a single button. And the moment he took to appreciate the view of you, just in your bra, all ready for him. The aroused look he gave you, like you were the most beautiful gift he had ever seen, was the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.
Yet, the moment soon came to an end. Because of one thing.
His phone rang.
You noticed the hesitation on his face. You even felt it in his kiss, the way he was still tracing down your chest with his lips but was doing it more slowly. And for a second, with your hand still grabbing his hair, you considered letting him continue. F
But you weren’t like that. And neither was he.
This was why you brought yourself closer against him only to grab his phone in his back pocket. “Answer, Aaron,” you whispered, putting a kiss right on the little piece of skin his polo collar was showing.
He ran his tongue through his lips, thinking about it again. It was supposed to be your moment, just you two together at least for the night. But you didn’t give him the choice, finally answering in the last ring before it was too late.
“Someone’s waiting for you,” you said with a soft laugh, to which he gave you a fake mad look but mostly a smirk.
“Aaron?” You heard Rossi say before Hotch brought his phone to his ear. 
His hand was still on your waist, brushing your skin slowly and listening to Rossi’s speech. You maybe had a little too much fun playing with him while he was on the phone. Your foot was brushing along his leg, coming closer and closer to his crotch. He suddenly grabbed your ankle with a warning look. “Stop it,” he whispered. He meant to mouth, but when he heard Rossi asking if he was disturbing something, he realized he hadn’t been so smooth.
You looked at him, fluttering your eyelashes to wait for his answer. You didn’t expect him to say that he was indeed trying to get the babysitter in his bed. But you clearly didn’t expect his answer. 
“No, it’s fine, I… I’m home. Alone. Jack isn’t here; I can come.” His tone was harsh, and you had no idea if he was trying to convince his colleague or punishing you for almost letting him know about you.
You looked away so he couldn’t see the little pain in your face hearing him still not acknowledging you. But his hand moved to your cheek so you would look at him again. You still cuddled against him. But he stayed silent while he agreed to be at the bureau in less than thirty minutes. 
“I’m sorry,” he simply said, putting a kiss on your forehead. You knew what he was doing. Hotch wasn’t pushing you away. He was simply trying to avoid the truth that he disappointed yet another woman in his life because of his job. 
But you grabbed his hand before he went away. “Don’t. I’m not mad you’re leaving.” You said with a little sad smile on your lips. You put his hand back on your thigh so you could button your shirt up again. Hotch tilted his head with a confused look. “It’s just…your neighbors can learn about us, but not your team.”
“That’s not…” he started, having a hard time finding his words. Because he could easily understand why it was upsetting you. He felt a little relieved knowing his job wasn’t the issue, something he couldn’t have changed if it was. But still feel bad that he made you sad for something he was indeed responsible for. He felt like he couldn’t do anything right when it came to relationships.
You were quick at putting a hand on top of his and squeezing his fingers gently. “It’s ok, Aaron, I get it.” You leaned to give him a small kiss. A promise that things were still good between the two of you.
When he arrived at the bureau, Rossi asked him again if he was sure he was alone when he called him. But Hotch denied everything. Just before sending you a text to apologize and promise you he would make it up to you the next time.
5. The ice cream
“Jack-Jack, be careful, please!” you screamed at the boy, who was running after a squirrel in the park. You were soon stopped in your walking by a big hand landing on your stomach. A hand that you knew pretty damn well since it was on your shoulder minutes ago and pretty much everywhere else a few nights ago.
“Wait a minute.” Hotch started, putting himself in front of you. “Are you the reason my son thinks he’s a child with superpowers?” 
There was something funny in the view of Hotch being in his inspector mode yet looking so casual.
It was one of the few days off he had, and he proposed to spend it together, the three of you. He was still trying to make things go easy for Jack, so you didn’t meet them until lunch. His son loved you; this was undeniable. But he could easily guess that it wasn’t easy for his little head to understand why the babysitter suddenly spent all her time at his home, even when Hotch was here to take care of him.
Even if Jack was far from an idiot. He noticed the way his dad was looking at you and the little acts of tenderness he had for you. He still hasn't shown his dad the drawing he did of you three, happily standing together. Like a family.
At this point, the two Hotchner boys were pretending the other didn’t know what they knew. 
After lunch, you decided to go to the park to enjoy the sunny weather. Hotch clearly stole your heart with his look, with a simple navy blue short that was fitting his biceps so nicely or the sunglasses that were lying on his nose so perfectly. Not to mention the chocolate ice cream you had bought and that looked so tiny in his hands compared to yours. 
“Well, for what it takes,” you started replying after taking a lick of your ice cream. “I think your son has superpowers.”
You loved the smile that grew on his lips. An amused one that portrayed how he felt about you. “Imagine if we had two Jacks!” you said, hitting his chest to prove your point. 
He grabbed your hand softly, his fingers circling your wrist and his thumb brushing your skin. “Would you want to take care of two Jacks?” he asked with a little laugh. But your answer took him by surprise.
“Well, two Jacks is more of him. More of him means more of you, and that’s an idea I love.”
You stayed like that, looking at each other. This question had more levels than just the idea of Jack being capable of duplicating himself. It was a consideration of what the future might look like for the two of you.
It wasn’t about having another Jack. It was about having another child. Your child. 
Even if it was not happening today, nor tomorrow or the following year, it was just a kind of agreement that you both wanted the same thing at some point. 
You could tell from the way his smile softened that this went straight to his heart. It meant more than Hotch wanted to tell that you saw your relationship with him being long-lasting.
He leaned closer to you, giving you a very short kiss before you both pulled away at the feeling of the ice cream melting in your hands.
“I’ll go grab some napkins.” You laughed at this disgusted face before walking away. And Hotch couldn’t stop looking at you, thinking how lucky he felt that you chose him, out of anybody. But his thought was soon interrupted when Jack ran straight to his legs. “Daddy, look who’s here!” he almost screamed, too excited for the man walking behind him.
“I didn’t remember Jack could be this persuasive; he refused to let me go.” Spencer said with a sweet laugh, ruffling the boy’s hair. That man was great with children, so it didn’t surprise Hotch that not only did Jack see him in the middle of the big park, but he also managed to convince him to come say hi.
For a moment, Hotch wondered if Spencer saw you before you went away. He knew for a fact that he wouldn’t make any remarks about it if he did; Spencer wasn’t the type to discuss each other’s private lives. But then he said something that proved to Hotch that he had no idea about your presence here.
“It’s great that you’re having a father and son day.” Hotch could tell from his tone that he was indeed very pleased that his boss took the time to have this kind of day after everything they went through. 
And so they talked for a minute or two about each other’s day—that was how he learned that Spencer had spent his whole afternoon reading in the park. They didn’t chat for too long. Actually, long enough that you didn’t come back until Spencer had left. 
“Can you believe I was stuck behind people just for some napkins?” you sighed, handing him one. But before he grabbed it, he put his arm around your waist to bring you closer and kiss you on the forehead. 
For the first time, Hotch realized he wasn’t as relieved that fate postponed the team learning about you. Maybe it was time that you finally found a way to be happy together and not hidden anymore.
+1
In the rankings of the worst day of your life, that day was clearly in the top 3. And it probably wasn’t the third.
Neither was it for Hotch.
You were stressed about him going on a case most of the time. You found out that treating it as any other job was easier for you. Sure, you always invited him to talk about what was on his mind when he came home from a difficult one. And you naturally had treated some wounds he got. But apart from this, you had to put that away when he wasn’t around so you didn’t spend your whole day stressing about it.
When Jessica called you right when you got in your car, you knew that something wasn’t right. Hotch left two days ago, and like he always does when it happens, Jack is staying with his aunt. It’s easier for everyone. Now that Jessica knew that you and Hotch were a real thing, you agreed that you could still spend some time with the boy. 
Usually, you would pick him up after school, spend the rest of the afternoon with him, and then bring him to Jessica for dinner at least once while his dad was away.
“Do you…do you think you could bring Jack here when you pick him up?” She asked right when you answered. Your silence spoke for your confusion, so she added. “Something happened; I don’t want to talk about it on the phone. I’m sorry.” 
She repeated these three words multiple times. Explaining that it had nothing to do with your skills to take care of Jack or that she didn’t trust you. Far from that. The situation was just bigger than you.
So you agreed. You went to school and took Jack with you. You pretended everything was fine when he told you about his day and asked about yours—when you actually couldn’t remember anything you did before the phone call. And when you arrived at Jessica’s place, you noticed how pale she looked. For a moment, you imagined the worst.
And you weren’t far from it.
“Aaron has been taken hostage,” she finally told you once Jack went to his bedroom, the one she made for him since he spent a lot of time here. “From what I know, it started around noon, but I don't have much news.” 
The following hours were the hardest, waiting to have just the slightest news about the man you love. And if it was hard to lie to Jack about his dad, you were still glad he was around to keep you entertained. You tried your hardest not to cry at the idea that the boy could lose his other parent. In your heart, you have all the faith in Hotch to go back home safely. Even if this time, everything wasn’t in his hands.
It was around 8 p.m. when Jessica got another call from the bureau saying that the hostage was over, Hotch was saved, and the team was already on the flight back to Quantico. And you didn’t realize you were hugging her after she told you this until you felt her hands caressing your back softly.
“Thank you,” you whispered. For telling you, for inviting you here, for making you part of this family without a judgment.
You chose not to stay any longer. But if you first thought about going home to your place, you soon were driving to the BAU to see Hotch as soon as he landed. You remember that in your first weeks working here, he put your name on the list in case something happened with Jack and you needed to come. 
You always felt guilty about taking that advantage and only used it once. Jack had been crying the whole afternoon about missing his mom and being scared for his dad, and so Hotch allowed you to come.
Yet, in front of the reception desk, you didn’t know how to introduce yourself. The same issue was repeated again and again. 
That was until you felt a hand on your shoulder, a movement that could be heard from the numerous bracelets on the woman’s arms. 
“She can come with me,” you heard Penelope say to the receptionist. “She’s with me. We’ll just wait on the team.” 
You found it funny how the day you finally put a foot in Hotch’s world, you were only met by people willing to help you feel at your place. You had every right to be scared or to feel the need to see him after such a disastrous moment. You had every right to love him the way you did.
And so you waited with Penelope for a good hour, chatting about everything there is to talk about: your classes, your life, the necklace you wore that she absolutely loved. “You know you just fulfilled a lot of people’s fantasies?” she asked you when she came back from grabbing some tea for the both of you.
You frowned, not sure to understand what she meant. “The babysitter dating her boss? That’s probably in the top 5 of people’s dreams!” You choked on your drink, which made her laugh even harder. You felt yourself blushing and a little proud of this being true.
But you didn’t get to think a lot about your feelings. Soon the team was entering the office. And soon, they all stopped at your view.
JJ was the first to notice you with Penelope. “Oh my god, I knew it,” she said to Emily, who looked around before finally landing her eyes on you. 
“Isn’t that…” she started but was cut off by Derek’s whistling.
“The babysitter!” he finished with a proud tone.
Spencer was the last one to complete the trio and looked at them with confusion. “She’s the babysitter? I saw her with Hotch at the park the other day; I thought she was just his girlfriend.” 
Emily laughed at the idea that this was in front of them the whole time, but none of them thought about sharing. 
“And you didn’t think about telling us, kiddo?” Derek asked, putting his arm around Spencer, who just shrugged.
And then came Hotch, talking with Rossi. Right from the first step he made in the office, he felt your presence. So did you, turning around to see your boyfriend standing still. You feared for a second that he might be angry that you came. That you chose for him to make this official in front of his colleagues. 
But the smile that grew on him when he realized that he wasn’t dreaming proved you different. 
You didn’t hesitate a single second before walking straight to him. The closer you got to him, the more you noticed the wounds from the day. The physical one, like the black eye growing on his left eye or the bruises on his hands. The psychological one too, how tired and empty he looked. Yet, there was still this subtle light on his face: the smile that kept on growing as you reached him.
“You’re here.” Hotch said in a low and tired voice. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he sighed, cupping your face with his hands. He needed that. To look at you after spending the day thinking he wouldn’t ever get the chance too. 
He couldn’t care less about everyone looking at you, because he knew his team, and he knew they wouldn’t look away from such a big love demonstration from the man that always kept everything for himself. Hotch realized how much he shouldn’t have kept you a secret for this long.
There was nothing to hide when it came to you.
Especially not the love he had for you.
So when he kissed you in the softest way, he felt a big relief in his heart. Knowing he made the right choice. By loving you and by showing the world you were his. 
And deep down, he knew he was ready to hear all the team jokes about him dating the babysitter.
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hotchbabygirl · 3 days ago
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New Thomas pic posted by his son JP.
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colourfulbisexualities · 2 days ago
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​🇸​​🇺​​🇮​​🇹​​🇸​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇸​​🇦​​🇸​​🇸​ ⚘ aaron hotchner
you’re the bau’s new medical examiner, oozing dark humour, sass, and a killer sense of style, ready to shake up the team. but when you butt heads with aaron hotchner on day one, sparks fly while the rest of the team bets on how long it’ll take for you to win him over.
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YOU STRUT into the BAU like you own the damn place, and honestly? You should. The overhead fluorescents do their best to wash out your glow, but even the most soul-sucking government lighting can’t dim this.
The emerald green suit hugs you in all the right places, a sharp contrast against the deep red silk blouse that’s unbuttoned just enough to toe the line between ‘professional’ and ‘distracting.’ Your heels which are Louboutin, naturally - click against the floor with every confident step, the sound sharp, decisive, commanding attention even from the most sleep-deprived agents around you. And your jewellery? Impeccable.
Large emerald studs in your ears, a matching ring resting on your manicured fingers. Each piece a carefully curated display of wealth, taste, and an undeniable presence. You don’t just walk into a room; you arrive, and anyone with half a brain can feel it.
Today is your first day as the BAU’s new medical examiner, and if you’re being honest? You’re already unimpressed. Not with the job itself because you live for the thrill of carving open a fresh corpse before most people have had their morning coffee, but the aesthetic of this place is tragic.
Beige walls, government-issue desks, the faint, ever-present smell of burnt coffee and bad decisions hanging in the air. It’s the kind of environment that breeds stress wrinkles and caffeine addictions, and you’ve already decided that you will not be another victim.
No, you’re here for something new. Something interesting. The only reason you transferred was because your last job had become boring, and you refuse to let your skills stagnate among mundane cases and lackluster conversation.
The BAU, at least, promises a bit of excitement—new cases, new killers, new mysteries to unravel. And, if nothing else, the chance to shake up an office full of straight-laced federal agents with your dark humour and sharp tongue.
The bullpen is exactly what you expected. Agents in various states of exhaustion, stacks of paperwork threatening to topple, and the subtle hum of tense conversation punctuated by the occasional ringing phone. It’s an atmosphere of constant movement, of minds working overtime, and while you appreciate the energy, you can’t help but sigh dramatically as you glance around.
“This place is hideous,” you mutter to yourself, brushing a speck of imaginary dust off your sleeve. “Jesus, does the FBI have something against interior design?”
And then you see her ... Penelope Garcia, dressed in an explosion of colour, exuding the kind of confidence that comes from knowing exactly who she is and not giving a damn what anyone thinks about it. Finally, someone with taste.
The second her eyes land on you, she lets out a dramatic gasp, one hand clutching at her necklace like she’s just seen the Virgin Mary herself descend into the bullpen. “Oh my God,” she breathes. “Who are you?”
You smirk, tilting your head just slightly. “The new medical examiner. And, from the looks of things, the only other person in this building with a sense of style.”
Her eyes sparkle like she’s just found a long-lost soulmate. “Oh, honey, we are going to be best friends.”
“Obviously,” you reply smoothly. “Someone needs to help me cope with the tragedy that is this office décor. Do you think the Bureau would let me expense a new couch? Maybe some curtains? Anything to make this place feel less like a funeral home for the aesthetically challenged.”
“Oh, sweetie, they barely let me expense my glitter pens. You’re asking for a miracle.”
Before you can reply, a voice cuts through the air. Sharp, authoritative, and entirely unimpressed. “You’re late.”
You turn slowly, already knowing that this is going to be fun.
Aaron Hotchner stands before you, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but his eyes intense, scanning you like he’s already profiling your entire existence. And damn if he isn’t gorgeous. You hadn’t expected that. The way his suit fits just right, the sharp angles of his face, the sheer command he exudes—it’s almost enough to distract you from the fact that he’s clearly about to be a pain in your ass.
Almost.
You blink at him, deliberately slow, before glancing at the large digital clock on the wall. “It’s 8:59.”
His jaw tightens just slightly. “We start at eight.”
You sigh, placing a perfectly manicured hand over your heart as if this news has wounded you. “Oh, tragic. If only someone had told me that I was expected to conform to the outdated concept of ‘morning people.’” You let out a dramatic sigh. “Next thing you’ll tell me is that I’m expected to function without proper espresso. What kind of barbarism is this?”
There’s a pause, the kind that suggests Hotch is not used to being spoken to like this. Behind him, you catch the subtle exchange of money. Morgan handing Reid a few bills, Emily shaking her head with an amused smirk. Oh, they were betting on this. Good. At least someone in this building understands entertainment.
Hotch, to his credit, doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he exhales, slow and controlled, the only sign that you’re even remotely testing his patience. “Garcia, show her around the building.”
“Oh, I absolutely will,” she says, looping her arm through yours like this is the best thing to happen to her all day.
As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on you—calculating, assessing, already irritated. You turn your head just slightly, meeting his gaze with a slow smirk.
“He’ll recover,” you murmur to Garcia, low enough that only she hears.
She giggles, glancing back at him before whispering, “Oh, I hope not.”
Hotch watches you go, pressing his lips together as he forces himself to look away. You’re impossible. He already knows you’re going to be a problem, and the worst part? He can’t decide if that frustrates him… or intrigues him.
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hoe4hotchner · 3 days ago
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Hey queen! I’m glad you’re doing better after the accident!!! I was wondering one if your taking requests, and two if you are can you write about the reader taking care of Hotch, maybe he got injured in the field and the reader takes him to the hospital and takes care of him at home, or if your feeling ✨spicy✨ the reader sees how stressed he’s been at work and takes care of him one night! Absolutely no pressure, and thank you!!!!
Doctor's orders | [A.H]
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 0.7k | CW: injury, hospital, slight angst, but more fluff
A/N: Thank you!!! Also you can always check if my inbox is open for request in my bio 💕🤭
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You barely heard the nurse’s instructions over the steady beep of the heart monitor. The antiseptic smell of the hospital clung to your nostrils, and despite your best efforts, the tight knot of worry in your stomach refused to unravel.
Aaron lay in the hospital bed, his arm immobilized in a sling, eyes half-lidded from the lingering effects of anesthesia.
“See?” you whispered, brushing a gentle hand over his forehead, pushing away the stray locks of dark hair. “This is what happens when you don’t listen.” Your voice was soft, laced with relief now that you knew he’d be okay.
He managed a weak smile, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “It was… a calculated risk.” Acting like you would've done if you'd been the one lying in his position.
You snorted, grabbed the chair, and dragged it closer to his bedside. “If you call tackling a suspect with a knife ‘calculated,’ I’d hate to see what happens when you’re feeling reckless.”
His eyes slid shut, but his hand shifted toward yours. You took it without hesitation, running your thumb along the rough patches of his knuckles. The silence stretched, comfortable despite the beeping machines around you.
“The doctor said it’s a clean break,” you murmured after a moment, glancing at the chart at the end of the bed. “Fractured clavicle, no significant displacement. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”
“Lucky would be avoiding the knife entirely,” he murmured, a hint of humor returning to his tone. It wasn't rare for you to hear Hotch joke, but it was rare for him to do it on the job. “Thanks for sticking around.”
You squeezed his hand, a smile breaking through your mock sternness. “Well, someone has to make sure you follow the discharge instructions.” You tilted your head, letting your voice drop into a whisper. “And I don’t trust you not to push yourself too hard.”
His eyes opened, meeting yours with that familiar intensity. “I’ll be good. Promise.”
You didn’t quite believe him, but you nodded anyway. “Good. Let’s get you home.”
By the time you got him settled on the couch, Hotch was grumbling about his forced rest. You fluffed a pillow behind his back, ignoring his pointed look. “Don’t give me that face,” you said, hands on your hips. “Doctor’s orders—rest, fluids, and no paperwork for at least a week.” The last part was your own addition to his bedrest orders, but he didn't need to know that.
“That’s excessive,” he muttered, though he didn’t resist as you draped a blanket over him.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” you replied smoothly as you brought over a glass of water, holding it out. “Drink.”
He took it, his fingers brushing against yours. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s not every day I get to boss around Unit Chief and SSA Aaron Hotchner.” You softened, sitting beside him. “I’m just glad you’re okay. When I saw you go down…”
His hand found yours again, a silent reassurance. “I’m tougher than I look.”
“Don’t I know it,” you teased, though your eyes glistened. You pulled yourself together, changing the subject. “You hungry? We still have leftovers from last night.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “A little.”
A short while later, you returned with a bowl of soup, carefully blowing on a spoonful before offering it to him. Hotch huffed but accepted, too tired to argue.
“This isn’t necessary,” he said between bites, though the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement.
“Just indulge me,” you replied, gently dabbing at a drop that clung to his chin. “Besides, someone has to make sure you’re eating properly.”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You’re relentless.”
“And don’t you forget it,” you quipped, setting the bowl aside once it was empty.
As you cleared away the dishes, Hotch’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “Thank you. For everything.”
You turned, meeting his gaze. “I’ll always be here to take care of you.” You paused, grinning. “Even if you don’t listen to me.”
He reached for your hand, pulling you down beside him. “I’m listening now.”
“Good,” you whispered, leaning into him. “Because this time, you’re under my care.”
You barely heard the nurse’s instructions over the steady beep of the heart monitor. The antiseptic smell of the hospital clung to your nostrils, and despite your best efforts, the tight knot of worry in your stomach refused to unravel.
Aaron lay in the hospital bed, his arm immobilized in a sling, eyes half-lidded from the lingering effects of anesthesia.
“See?” you whispered, brushing a gentle hand over his forehead, pushing away the stray locks of dark hair. “This is what happens when you don’t listen.” Your voice was soft, laced with relief now that you knew he’d be okay.
He managed a weak smile, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “It was… a calculated risk.” Acting like you would've done if you'd been the one lying in his position.
You snorted, grabbed the chair, and dragged it closer to his bedside. “If you call tackling a suspect with a knife ‘calculated,’ I’d hate to see what happens when you’re feeling reckless.”
His eyes slid shut, but his hand shifted toward yours. You took it without hesitation, running your thumb along the rough patches of his knuckles. The silence stretched, comfortable despite the beeping machines around you.
“The doctor said it’s a clean break,” you murmured after a moment, glancing at the chart at the end of the bed. “Fractured clavicle, no significant displacement. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”
“Lucky would be avoiding the knife entirely,” he murmured, a hint of humor returning to his tone. It wasn't rare for you to hear Hotch joke, but it was rare for him to do it on the job. “Thanks for sticking around.”
You squeezed his hand, a smile breaking through your mock sternness. “Well, someone has to make sure you follow the discharge instructions.” You tilted your head, letting your voice drop into a whisper. “And I don’t trust you not to push yourself too hard.”
His eyes opened, meeting yours with that familiar intensity. “I’ll be good. Promise.”
You didn’t quite believe him, but you nodded anyway. “Good. Let’s get you home.”
By the time you got him settled on the couch, Hotch was grumbling about his forced rest. You fluffed a pillow behind his back, ignoring his pointed look. “Don’t give me that face,” you said, hands on your hips. “Doctor’s orders—rest, fluids, and no paperwork for at least a week.” The last part was your own addition to his bedrest orders, but he didn't need to know that.
“That’s excessive,” he muttered, though he didn’t resist as you draped a blanket over him.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” you replied smoothly as you brought over a glass of water, holding it out. “Drink.”
He took it, his fingers brushing against yours. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s not every day I get to boss around Unit Chief and SSA Aaron Hotchner.” You softened, sitting beside him. “I’m just glad you’re okay. When I saw you go down…”
His hand found yours again, a silent reassurance. “I’m tougher than I look.”
“Don’t I know it,” you teased, though your eyes glistened. You pulled yourself together, changing the subject. “You hungry? We still have leftovers from last night.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “A little.”
A short while later, you returned with a bowl of soup, carefully blowing on a spoonful before offering it to him. Hotch huffed but accepted, too tired to argue.
“This isn’t necessary,” he said between bites, though the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement.
“Just indulge me,” you replied, gently dabbing at a drop that clung to his chin. “Besides, someone has to make sure you’re eating properly.”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You’re relentless.”
“And don’t you forget it,” you quipped, setting the bowl aside once it was empty.
As you cleared away the dishes, Hotch’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “Thank you. For everything.”
You turned, meeting his gaze. “I’ll always be here to take care of you.” You paused, grinning. “Even if you don’t listen to me.”
He reached for your hand, pulling you down beside him. “I’m listening now.”
“Good,” you whispered, leaning into him. “Because this time, you’re under my care.”
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hotchs-big-hands · 2 days ago
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Yknow what I find cute? When Aaron’s hair is a lil messy instead of it being pristine 🥰
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sweethotchlogy · 2 days ago
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This man I wanna hug him please let me ….
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4pologygir1 · 2 days ago
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i can't decide if i want to think about hotch or greg montgomery when i see this pic but um where did my pants go??
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lazyclumzycat-blog · 3 days ago
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*frown intensifies*
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emilys-house · 2 days ago
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Aaron Hotchner in every episode of Criminal Minds:
Season 3, Episode 11, ‘Birthright’
Masterlist ✰
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allhandsonhotch · 2 days ago
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all i can think about is this like it consumes my mind i made it my wallpaper like i cannot stop thinking about it.
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wendoline22 · 3 days ago
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This man 😍❤️‍🔥🙂‍↕️
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ssaemilyhotchner · 5 hours ago
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THOMAS GIBSON First rehearsals and table reads for David Mamet’s Henry Johnson at Victory Gardens Theater, Chicago, IL. Photos from Jp Gibson.
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hotchbabygirl · 2 days ago
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GET YOUR TICKEST FOR THOMAS NEW PLAY!
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“Henry Johnson is a gripping play by David Mamet that delves into the themes of manipulation and ethical ambiguity. The story follows Henry Johnson (Thomas Gibson), a middle-aged man, as he navigates a series of encounters, both in the corporate world and in prison. Quickly the question becomes, what is the price of compassion?”
get your tickets here 🎟️🎭 🔜: https://victorygardens.org/
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kiwriteswords · 1 day ago
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Holy shit. Is it that sweet? I guess so
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MY HEADCANNON. 🫧🍷🧀
Aaron has an modern apartment, he likes to collect records and collects alcohol and an art, a little. He doesn't like to talk about it, he's a private person. He also knows a lot about tea and sometimes likes to have tastings, either with Rossi or with his partner. He likes French cheeses and white wine and well-cooked pasta. Or good tea with Japanese sweets. He loves cooking, but he won't let Rossi teach him, and because of that, he doesn't even tell him that he makes pasta every weekend to improve his skills. likes home dates. He cooks pasta for his partner, pours wine, and they sit enjoying delicious food and good music playing on a vinyl record player.
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sweethotchlogy · 2 days ago
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Please <3
@ssamorganhotchner @kiwriteswords @ssaaaronmontgomery @zaddyhotch @hotchs-big-hands @honeypiehotchner @hoe4hotchner
Send help …
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