hi sweetheart! after you absolutely killed my last request and cleaned every dish with it MM MM MMMMM I'm back
this time, DBF!Hotch. The two of you got caught on your dad's new security camera beside the house that you didn't know about. Your dad tries to send aaron home to chew you out on it but Aaron gets all defensive and refuses to let you take the fall for both of your actions (maybe this leads to aaron's first acknowledgement that he loves you, 😮💨) but yes just protective!hotch standing up for you and your relationship 🦋🦋
I'm finally taking the web off the asks that got lost on my inbox when I disappeared, so you may see me for a few days!
Requests are still open, and you're invited to send anything Aaron Hotchner on my way.
Thank you for your request!
LUCK: sucess or failure apparently brought by chance rather than through one's own actions. Chance considered as a force that causes good or bad things to happen.
With you, it was usually bad things.
Of course, there were exceptions — like when you graduated in law, only a few months ago; or the day your father (the Senator) allowed you to go for a guided visit to the FBI to study it's many Units just because you wanted to see law being applied on different contexts; or — and this one was your absolute favorite — when you stumbled into your dad's best friend, Aaron Hotchner.
The latter one had been an absolute blast.
Aaron Hotchner was BAU's Unit Chief, and thanks to his ties with your father, he had been the one responsible for your tour of the sixth floor. Aaron had been attentive and careful, he embraced your curiosity as if he was being paid to give someone a tour, and not to find serial killers.
At the end of your tour, he offered you his number because, "I was a lawyer, so if you ever need something, or another tour, just give me a call".
One week later, you called him to ask for advice on a hard case you've taken at the law firm you were working at; Aaron asked you to dinner so you could talk privately about it, and helped you go over the case files. You also talked some more about your private lives — how he had an 8-year-old son, how you had a dog, how both your jobs took more time from you than you wanted. At the end of the dinner, there was another one scheduled.
Aaron had to reschedule that one (a case in Alaska wanted his immediate attention), but he knocked on your door first thing when he came back, a bouquet of flowers (sunflowers, to be exact) in hand as he proposed you'd go out for that delayed dinner. You accepted right away.
The third date was at your home, and that was the first time you kissed. The first time you've done way more than kissing. By the time Aaron left your home that night — staying over wasn't an option when he had a son at home —, you were sure there was nothing you wanted more than a solid career and to have that man's hands on you again.
That was when things started to go wrong.
You've had your fourth date scheduled when a pipe at your home exploded, causing a flood to start in your bathroom and spread all over your house; and while you weren't excited to go back into living with your father, that was the only available (and financially worthy) option, because you certainly wouldn't ask Aaron to let you live with him.
No. Nope. Absolutely not.
It wasn't like you were dating, on the romantic sense of the word. Yes, you had feelings for him; yes, you messaged so often that people had asked more than once if you were in a relationship; and yes, you did way more than just making out like hormonal teenagers whenever you had a second to be together.
But Aaron had a son, and you had a golden retriever (and said golden retriever was too attached to Aaron, to be honest), and a month and a few days of hookup wasn't enough to justify calling someone and saying, "Hey, mind if I crash down at yours while my pipes are being changed?".
"Yes, honey" Aaron nodded, looking down at you as he played with your hair, "That's exactly what you should've said".
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in bewilderment. That was probably the third time you've been having that discussion, but it was the first time you've done it personally since Aaron had just came back from a case.
As usual, Aaron spent the night at home with Jack (he did invite you to go over, but you didn't feel like you were this far in your relationship to say yes) and appeared first thing in the morning at your father's house to see you. Now, you were lying together on the backyard, Aaron looking down at you, prompted up on his shoulders as you laid on the towel you brought out.
It was intimate, cute. The kind of moment you wouldn't have anywhere else, since the two of you lived on apartments. It was special, as if there was something more going on there, something unspoken.
Frightening. That was the word to describe it. And yet...
"I'll keep that in mind next time" you replied, a smile spreading on your face at the sight of the smallest quirk on his lips, "I like it when you smile, Aaron".
Aaron's smile widened, and God — you could feel your heart beating faster at that godly image, at the fact that you had put that smile on his face, the realization that his look of adoration was for you, and not any other woman.
"I like it when you smile, too" he whispered, leaning to press a soft kiss against your lips, "Even if this is not a rare occasion, because you're the softest person I've met".
"Oh, come on!" you pushed him away, and even if it was nothing more than the touch of your hand against his chest, Aaron pretended to fall backward on the towel, a silent invitation for you to lay on his chest, "I'm not soft!".
"Yes, you are" Aaron replied with a laugh, "Even more than Garcia, and she's essentially a marshmallow".
You gasped at his words, placing your hand on your heart as if he had offended you, "I can't believe you said that! I am a serious lawyer!".
"Never said you weren't, honey" Aaron pointed, pressing a soft kiss against your head, "Just that you're a very soft lawyer, that's always good to everybody".
"Which some would point as a weakness".
"Some are stupid" Aaron shrugged, "You are not. You're the best lawyer I've met, and I know you can do great things, baby".
You didn't know how to react to his words if there was an appropriate way to react. On these few months you've been seeing each other, Aaron had made a point of cheering you on whenever he could, and even managed to watch some of your court hearings (a benefit he got from being both an ex-lawyer and an FBI Agent), always having some strategic input for the next one.
Aaron has been helping, and has been hearing. He believed you even when you weren't sure your father believed.
"Thank you" you whispered shyly, moving to kiss his lips, "I don't know what—".
"What the fuck is happening here?".
So, here's where the word luck suddenly turns into unluck. That specific moment in time, when you realize that the feeling of something missed you've been nurturing, had nothing to do with a lack of word to define your relationship with Aaron, but with the fact that at the end of the day... your father had no idea you've been dating Aaron.
It wasn't like you were hiding it from him — you've been open about dating someone, and he was aware that he knew that someone, but in truth you've never properly told him who that someone was. And while you wanted to say it was pretty obvious (because you've lost count on how many times you and your dad talked about Aaron when having dinner together), your dad had never been the one to read between the lines.
So, yeah. That was kinda your fault.
"Dad!" you stood up immediately, thanking every god available you and Aaron had decided to just lay outside, and not do something else, "You're home early".
"Yeah? You tell me" your dad snorted bitterly, looking between you and Aaron with anger written all over his face, "I was watching the security camera because I know this is when you get Lucky ready for her walk, and what do I see? You and Aaron here together! What was I supposed to do?".
You had some answers on your mind, but none of them seemed important as you looked around, eyes half-closed as you studied the space around you, "There are no security cameras on the backyard".
"Thank God I put on some last week!" your father pointed, "I thought you'd be safer if I did, and now I see that was providential for some other reasons".
You noticed when Aaron stood up beside you, his hand touching the small of your back softly, "There's no reason for you to talk with that this way".
"No reason? No—" your dad stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second before he pointed at Aaron, "You, I want you out of my house. And you—".
For a second, you thought you'd been the one to mutter that simple word, that you had dared to say 'no' to your father to defend a... situationship with Aaron; it made sense because in your heart you wanted — craved — to tell your father that he couldn't tell you who you could date, or to put your "I'm an adult" speech to use, but you hadn't been the person to retort.
"What did you say?" your father barked, his eyes twitching in nervousness.
"I said no" Aaron replied, taking a step in front of you, "You're not gonna talk like that with her. Not today, not ever".
"That doesn't mean you don't owe her respect!" Aaron retorted, his voice louder than your father's, "You wanna talk about us, that's your right. You wanna know about us, that's also your right. But to scream with her in order to get some manipulated answer, that's not happening, not on my watch".
You knew you were supposed to step up and say something. Maybe you should tell Aaron to leave, so you could talk privately to your father; maybe you should stand with Aaron and leave with him because, honestly, you were dreading this specific talk.
But having Aaron defending you?
You've decided to study law because you knew what it was not to have someone on your back. Of course, your father had defended you in some instances, but there were other moments he'd made it known he'd step out so you could solve things by yourself; it did help you build character (as he used to say), but you missed having someone patting your back at the end of the day, or helping with the fights you just didn't feel ready to fight.
Aaron was just that person.
You didn't know if it was because he was FBI or it was his lawyer side rubbing in again, but it didn't matter — Aaron was fighting for you. Fighting for what you had.
God, you really loved that man.
"Okay" your father humphed, both his hands on his waist as he looked directly at you, "Then plead your case. And I hope is a good plea, because I didn't pay for the best university is this country for you to give me some lame reasoning—".
Yeah, this time it was you. And you knew that if you didn't go on with that, you probably would get too afraid to continue, so... "I'm an adult, dad" you cringed at how lame your words sounded in front of what Aaron had just said, "I won't say there isn't an age gap..."
"Twenty years" your father pointed between gritted teeth.
"But I'm an adult!" you stomped your feet, holding Aaron's arm, "I'm 28, I'm a lawyer, and I..." you closed your eyes, biting your bottom lip before those three words escaped her lips, "I can make my own decisions, dad. I'm not asking for your permission, I'm asking acceptance".
Silence. Deafening silence.
"Can I talk to Aaron?" your father asked finally. You could read anger all over his face, the way his jaw was tense and his hands were closed in fists, but you could also see defeat in his eyes — the realization that it didn't matter what he did or said, you'd stick to what you had with Aaron.
And you were proud of yourself.
You looked up at Aaron, waiting to see if he wanted to have this talk with your father, even if you knew he was too much a gentleman to refuse something like that (you had your doubts he'd ask for permission if he ever decided to pop the question — but why the hell were you thinking about that?), which was quickly confirmed with his curt nod, "Okay" you whispered.
With a gentle smile towards Aaron, you made your way towards your dad, stopping your walk beside him before whispering, "I love him. Please, don't fuck with that".
He didn't answer, nor looked at you. Taking it as your leave, you walked back inside the house, closing the door behind you — but not quick enough not to hear Aaron's final words.
"I fucking love your daughter, man. Please, don't fuck it up".
Maybe you weren't that unlucky, after all.
Thank you for the request!
