"are you on the pill?"
"well why do you think i've been calling you daddy?"
alt: aaron hotchner isn't into younger women, nor relationships in general. or so he tells himself.
this chap has a little ;) but only on hotch's side, so if u don't like that u can skip! also idc its canon that emily is a lesbian, and u get some wlw mentions in this too :)
𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫: 𝔴𝔢𝔱 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔰
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Cold sweat littered Aaron Hotchner's forehead, his breath ragged. His legs intertwined with his sheets viciously, and the tent in his boxers was leaving a wet imprint upon his front. A small moan creeped out of his mouth, and as he slowly started to wake up, his hands drifted down his body.
Fondling his boxers, he pressed hard to relieve the friction. It didn't take him long to reach inside of his boxers and start fucking himself into his fist. He thought about the dream, what had made him so endearingly worked up in the first place—Mykie Rivers. She was almost etheral, the way her hair flowed down her back, the perfect curvature of her ass.
He had no time to ponder whether what he was doing was out of line, because he pulled a beeline straight from his dream to real life. He vividly remembered him seeing himself pile into the small girl, his hands on her hips, pistoning into her.
Replaying the moans in his head, he fucked his hand harder. Slaps had filled the room, and Aaron Hotchner truly had never had better sex. Until he realized he wasn't inside his young intern, he was getting off into the disappointment of his own fingers.
Milking the last of himself, he came in white hot spurts all over his abdomen and fingers. He took deep breaths, and turned to see his alarm clock. It was three in the morning, and he was dreaming about having sex with his intern.
Guilt set in.
He got up, and headed to the bathroom. Grabbing a wet rag, he cleaned himself off. His entire brain was filled to the brim with inner scolding. Not only was it unprofessional, he was easily fifteen years her senior.
Every time he'd thought about her, he'd been shameful. Guilty of her with bruised ribs, bloody lips, and the things that man had said to her. He felt just as bad, thinking of her sexually when clearly those were not her intentions. It was just a dream, but he was a profiler. He knew that it was something else, something deeper.
He just didn't know what. And that fact alone drove Aaron Hotchner insane.
To continue his morning, he knew sleep would not be on his agenda anytime soon. A shower sounded like a better option. Maybe he could wash off the guilt, and get an early start.
Three hours later, on the other side of town, Mykie Rivers laid in bed.
Soft snores left her mouth, and her legs cradled a large body pillow. Sleeping in her mother's guest bedroom, she noticed this bed wasn't as comfy as her own, and the thought filled her head before she drifted off to sleep that night.
