"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.
warnings: fluff, talk of politics (hotch is a socialist dont talk 2 me), talk of addiction, drugs, dilf!hotch as per usual, and a little action this chapter ;) kinda short im sorry but im gonna be updating more consistently !!
ps: i love feedback!! good bad or indifferent!! pls comment and tell me what i should b doing pls
𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔦𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫: 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔯𝔰
0:58 ━━❍─────── 3:35
𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐲 — 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲
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Hotch sat on Mykie's couch, rather stiffly, as he sipped his very hot coffee. She had to giggle to herself, as someone who really doesn't drink hot coffee when iced is offered, that he didn't even flinch to gulp it down. She was comfortable, of course. She immediately sat down and invited Hotch to sit, and she grabbed a small throw blanket and laid it over herself. She was a little chilly, she couldn't help it.
"The woman at the drive-thru told me their new seasonal Owl Pop was out, but she gave it a very odd name. Something to do with Duolingo. I was very confused." Hotch deadpanned, as Mykie inspected the purple Owl Pop.
"They're so good," Mykie giggled through bites, "the running joke is that its Duolingo's long lost girlfriend,"
"Ah," Hotch nodded, once more taking a sip of his coffee. He took a moment before slowly letting himself get comfortable, and leaning back into Mykie's couch. They were on opposite ends, but he still wanted to keep his distance, comfort and distance wise.
One would ask, why stop by at all then?
Hotchner did not have an answer. He was just guilt ridden, yet couldn't get enough of her. It was like watching porn as a teenager and immediately being grossed out after the deed is done. He profiled that one out of him long ago, but the feeling is reminisced.
"Hotch, can I ask you a question?"
He looked up at her, his brown eyes swimming. She had his full attention, and she could tell as his lips parted lightly and his thumb rubbed the side of his drink. "Now, if this is out of line—"
"Mykie, just ask," he said softly, the side of his face gently teasing upward.
"What are your political beliefs?"
Hotch was expecting a million things. Something about the job they'd worked, when their next day off would be, why he got a hard on, the last thing he expected was that question. He looked down to ponder for a moment, and sighed.
