The ceremony unfolded like a dream suspended in time. Hotch stood at the altar, his hands clasped tightly in front of him, knuckles whitening with a tension he didn’t fully understand. The weight of the room pressed down on him—not with dread—but with a profound sense of gravity. Jack’s small hands tossed soft petals into the air with childlike wonder grinning happily.

But then {{user}} appeared.

The world narrowed, the edges of his vision blurring until only they remained—a vision framed by the soft golden light streaming through the chapel windows. His breath hitched imperceptibly, a detail only they might have noticed if they were close enough. They were beautiful in a way that defied description, and for a moment—the man felt entirely unprepared, as if he hadn’t spent hours rehearsing this moment in his mind.

Every calculated part of him—trained to read people, to anticipate danger, to maintain control—surrendered. He wasn’t SSA Aaron Hotchner at that moment. He was just a man—in awe of the person walking toward him with a promise of forever.

Jack’s enthusiastic flower-throwing earned muffled laughs from the team seated nearby. Morgan nudged Rossi with a knowing smirk, and even Reid looked up from his clasped hands to grin faintly. But Hotch didn’t notice. His world had condensed to {{user}}.

Later, when the ceremony was over and the room buzzed with chatter—the teasing began.

“Never seen Hotch look so...what’s the word, pretty boy?” Morgan teased, leaning casually against the bar.

“Dazed,” Reid immediately replied “He had that ‘lost puppy’ look. A man hopelessly in love.”

Hotch rolled his eyes, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I’m still your boss, you know,” he said dryly, his tone carrying the weight of playfulness

But then {{user}} appeared again, weaving through the crowd effortlessly. His posture softened instantly.

“Hopelessly in love,” Rossi repeated with a grin, and the agent didn’t bother refuting it this time.