winsteria

[winsteria]

THIS IS SO GOOD!! I am so excited for the next part 🤭

A word of advice – Professor Aaron Hotchner (Profiling 101 Series, Part 1/?)

Y'all voted for this series, so here we go. I promise there will be lots of smut (you know me), but please show some love to this chapter which has no smut in it just yet. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader enrolls in professor Hotchner's class "Profiling 101", a man she has always looked up to, a man who treats her like an asshole from day one. Will her need for academic validation manage to push the two closer together? Will her bright mind push her into the world of Aaron Hotchner and the BAU team? Will he manage to keep his distance before the world he tries to protect her from can get its grasp on her?

Warnings: eventual smut, eventual CM violence, Aaron is an asshole here, authority kink, university professor x student relationship, each chapter will have its own warnings, for this one no warnings needed tho

Pairing: Professor!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (1.6k words)

Profiling 101 Series Masterlist

With her eyes set on her phone, (y/n) entered the coffee shop. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filled her nostrils, a comforting sensation that left her relaxing for a few seconds, though without ever taking her eyes off her phone screen. Her eyes kept following the sentences she had read numerous times in the past week, trying to memorise every single word, forcing the readings into her aching head. 

It was the first week of the new semester, and while she had enrolled in a few classes with professors that were all too familiar with her, she had almost cried in excitement as she had stumbled upon the course “Profiling 101” – with none other than Aaron Hotchner as a professor. Without even thinking twice (y/n) had instantly enrolled in the class, filled with a giddiness she hadn’t felt in months, all too excited about meeting the agent she had been admiring for years. 

(Y/n) could still remember the first talk he had given at her university, accompanied by Spencer Reid and David Rossi, men (y/n) had always looked up to, admiring their knowledge, their work. It still felt too good to be true that she finally got the chance to enrol in Aaron Hotchner’s class, needing to put on her best act, silently hoping that she’d manage to catch his attention. 

She was too deep in thought to spare her surroundings any mind, still focused on her reading, not noticing the tall man standing behind her, impatiently waiting for (y/n) to keep on moving, to finally tell the barista her order. 

“Excuse me?” His raspy, harsh voice shook her from her thoughts, blinking a few times before her eyes found his coffee coloured ones. A silent gasp left (y/n) as she realised that none other than Aaron Hotchner himself was standing behind her, staring her down as if she was a criminal he was about to interrogate. “You’re wasting our time here, could you please move along? And please, try to start your readings for my class earlier and not only an hour before class starts.”

Her mouth was dry, throat tight, unable to speak up, unable to explain to the man she had always looked up to that she was only trying to reread the texts, that it wasn’t the first time she was looking at it. But (y/n) only turned away from him, turning towards the woman behind the counter who shot her a comforting smile, all too aware of the harsh words the tall, brooding man had just spoken. 

(Y/n) didn’t pay any attention to the words leaving her, speaking the same order she always got. Her heart was clenching in her chest, pounding with pain and embarrassment, forcing her blood to rush through her veins even faster than before, ears ringing in annoyance. With her eyes staring stoically ahead, she watched the woman prepare her order, pushing it closer to (y/n) as soon as she was done. 

By the time (y/n) had reached for her order anger had managed to arise in her system, flushing through her body with quick steps, forcing her lips to part before her mind could even catch up with what she was about to say, “A word of advice, professor Hotchner. If you want your students to respect you, you shouldn’t treat them like you’re the biggest asshole they’ll meet on campus.”

Before Aaron could even try to pierce a reply together, staring at her with surprise tugging on his features, (y/n) had turned from him, stepping out of the coffee shop with a deep exhale of the breath she had been holding. The second the cold October air stroked along her frame, teasing her warm cheeks, (y/n) allowed her disappointment to thump through her veins, wondering if he was always this rude to other people or if she had just been the unlucky one to be met with his bad mood today. 

……

If there was one thing (y/n) was known for, it was sitting in the first few rows, scribbling down every word her professors spoke. She was determined, set on her good grades, on the career path she had wanted to follow ever since high school. Not once had she broken her routine, not once had she found herself sitting in the last few rows, but today everything had changed, today (y/n) found herself hiding away from the professor who spoke without any emotions dripping from his words, one with the students that preferred to find shelter in the back of the big room. 

Even though she knew that he couldn’t see her in the darkness filling the room, all light focused on him, it felt as if he was searching for her in the endless rows filled with students, eyes actively searching for the woman that had spoken with anger dripping from her words, fuelling the fire simmering inside of him. Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding, guided by the embarrassment her own action had shot through her system, knowing that she’d think back to this moment for weeks on end – perhaps even months. 

“I need you all to pay attention every week, it’s crucial for your homework, for the things you’ll work on this semester. I’d advise you to show up to every class, you won’t be able to catch up otherwise, especially not since you’ll get the chance to work on active cases.” A few gasps of surprises echoed through the room, and even (y/n) couldn’t stop herself from giving into the excitement once again filling her system. Perhaps she’d still get a chance to make things right with the man she had called an asshole only an hour ago. 

“You’ll turn in your homework every Friday, you have time to upload it till 11:59 pm, you won’t get to hand it in later, once you miss the deadline that’s it. If you miss the deadline more than once, you’ll be kicked out of this class immediately. I need you all to understand that this class requires hard work, and as you hopefully also read in the description before enrolling, I expect you to have some basic knowledge about profiling, if not I’d advise you to quickly catch up, you’ll find a list of recommended readings uploaded to your online folders for this class.” 

(Y/n) couldn’t help but focus on his appearance, on the rolled up sleeves of his black dress shirt that exposed his muscular forearms, on the black trousers that seemed to add to his height, making him appear even taller. He was handsome, a man one could only dream of, and yet (y/n) was no longer sure how to feel about him after their run in this morning, momentarily ripped out of the crush she had fostered on him for years. 

“And one last thing before I’ll let you go, if you have any questions, you can always email me and I’ll try to squeeze you in for my consultation hours, but please don’t waste my time with questions you can find answers to online. I will see you all next week, please remember to do your homework.” 

……

The second (y/n) had entered her apartment, she had opened her laptop, finding her way to the folder for this week's homework. Perhaps she still had some chances to impress the man, turning in the homework as early as possible, instantly getting to work. But while she got to answering the questions that seemed all too easy to her, her mind started to wander, thinking back to her run in with professor Hotchner. 

Even at the first talk he had held all these years ago, he had appeared distant, closed off, though not as cold as today, not as angry and annoyed. He had grown older, and yet (y/n) could only think that he was even more handsome, she’d probably never get over her crush on him, on the man she’d dream of when the nights grew darker and the days blurred by all too quickly. 

She could only guess that something must have happened this morning, something that had pushed him further into the misery he was guided by, foregoing any kindness he’d normally use to approach strangers. And yet (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if she should email him, to apologise, hoping that she could restore the bad image he now probably had of her. 

Driven by her need to make things right, (y/n) reached for her phone, typing away a kind though distant apology, overthinking every word that could paint her like a desperate student, hungry for the man’s attention. Before her mind could produce any worst case scenarios that would leave her even more embarrassed, she clicked on “Send”, hoping to smooth the waters she was sailing through, hoping that she wouldn’t sink only hours after leaving her safe haven. 

It didn’t take long for his reply to find its way back to her, shaky hands reaching for her buzzing phone, eyes growing wider as she read through the reply that shot heat through her once again. 

“A word of advice, miss (y/n),

 Don’t go around calling your professors assholes. It’d be a shame to kick somebody who has a reputation of being the smartest student in her faculty out of my class. 

Best, A.H.” 

#aaron hotchner x reader #winsteria reads

[winsteria]

just want to spend lazy days with aaron and jack; that is the dream 🥺💗

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BEST BOY AARON HOTCHNER <333 comfortember day two: sweater weather aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader it's aaron's birthday and he wants to spend it with you at home. word count: 2.4k warnings/content: just pure fluff and a lil mention to sex but not explicit, pet names and one use of y/n, lots of cute kissing. established relationship! <3 also on ao3!

lazy day for the birthday boy

The front door opens and in walks Aaron, looking tense. You reach for him immediately, searching his face before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He holds you tightly, sighing deeply as he relaxes into you. After a minute, he pulls away and presses a soft kiss to your lips, thumbs tracing your jaw as you pull him closer.

“You okay?” You whisper against his lips.

“Mhm.”

“Sure?”

“I am now,” he nods, kissing you again. “Now that I’m with you.” 

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Don’t get all corny, Mister.”

He pulls back and laughs along with you, already seeming brighter, as he grabs his go-bag and moves toward the living room, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the way you love. “I thought you liked corny.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

Aaron rolls his eyes at that, throwing you a fond look. “Right. Well, when’s the next time you have work?”

“I have a few days off, I’m back on Monday next week.”

“Me too.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Aaron Hotchner… are you saying you’re taking a few days off? What’s the special occasion?” 

He shrugs. “Just wanted to spend some time with you.”

“Yeah? And are you sure it doesn’t have to do with your birthday coming up soon?”

“No, of course not,” he replies, biting back a smile at being caught.

“You’re actually taking time off?"

Aaron walks toward you and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you closer and pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. “I am.” He gives you another kiss. “I figured I’d treat myself.”

“And how are you gonna treat yourself?” 

“I already told you,” he smiles, pressing his lips against yours once more before pulling you into a hug. “Gonna spend my time with you.” His lips find your temple. “And only you.”

Your heart soars.

***

On the morning of Aaron’s birthday, you intentionally wake up earlier than him to sneak out of bed. It proves harder than you thought it would, having to crawl out from under his warm weight slowly so as to not disturb him, but once you’re standing, you smile down at him. His cheeks are slightly flushed and his lips are pressed together in a small smile, a rare but welcome occurrence. 

He looks peaceful.

Forcing yourself to move so that you don’t stand there all day watching him, you make your way to the kitchen to make him a surprise breakfast. Half an hour later, you smile to yourself with pride at the array of food you’ve made. There’s bacon, eggs, sausages, a slice of toast made to the perfect standard, coffee, and some orange juice. 

You take a quick picture before grabbing the tray, ready to take it to Aaron in bed when an arm slinks around your waist and a firm body presses against your back.  Aaron presses a kiss just below your ear and hums, squeezing you gently. "Something smells nice." 

"You were supposed to still be in bed,” you whine, sagging against him.

He chuckles against your skin and presses another tired kiss to your cheek. "I'm sorry, honey. Did I ruin your surprise?" 

“Yes,” you reply, placing the tray back on the kitchen table and turning around to wrap your arms around his neck. “You did, actually.”

"I did, huh?" 

"Mhm. Happy birthday, by the way." 

He smiles at you before kissing you softly. "Thank you. And I promise I didn't look at what you made, I can go back to bed if you want me to." 

"You better." 

Aaron chuckles and presses one last kiss to your nose before turning and walking back to the bedroom. “I was never here.”

“Right,” you say with a smile, rolling your eyes.

You wait for a few moments before picking up his food and taking it to him, laughing at the sight of him sprawled out on the bed as if in a deep sleep. At the sound of you coming in, he slowly pushes himself up, looking around in confusion and faking a yawn. He reaches up to rub at his eyes, stretching dramatically before sitting up against the headboard. “What’s going on?”

“You’re not gonna believe this,” you start, a smile tugging at your lips as you sit beside him on the edge of the bed and hand him the tray, “but I made you breakfast in bed.”

“Wow,” he replies, grinning like he just won a million bucks. “I never expected this.”

You roll your eyes and lean forward to give him a kiss on the forehead. “That’s the point of a surprise, sweetheart.”

“Right, yeah.” 

“So, what do you wanna do today?”

He chews thoughtfully on some egg white. “Spend it in bed?”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking at him. “Oh, yeah?”

“Not like that,” he chuckles, looking down at his food to choose what to pick next. Then it dawns on him and he looks up at you with a cheeky flustered smile. “Well, yeah, definitely like that, but then we can cuddle afterwards.”

“Wow, Aaron, you’re such a gentleman.”

“Aren’t I just?”

***

You wake up later that day, feeling Aaron's warm arms completely wrapped around you, his soft peaceful breaths tickling your neck. Smiling, you press a soft kiss to the top of his head and pull him closer. He shuffles in your arms and lets out a relaxed sigh, pressing his lips against your collarbone.

"Mornin'," he mumbles, voice thick with sleep. 

"Mornin', sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" 

He grins against your neck. "Mhm. You definitely put me to sleep." 

"Was I that bad?" You joke. 

He lifts up with a laugh and presses his lips against you, kissing you with so much love you feel like you might melt. "Never."

You kiss him back before pulling away, nuzzling your nose against his. "So, birthday boy, what d'ya wanna do the rest of the day?" 

"Can we have a lazy day?" 

"Of course," you smile, giving him a kiss. "Lazy day for the birthday boy, that sounds nice. But are you sure you don't wanna go out and get some food or anything? No museum trip or walk in the park?" 

"Hm, no," he mumbles, shaking his head and dropping his face into the crook of your neck with a sigh. "I'm always busy; just wanna be here." 

You card your hand through his soft hair. "Then we'll stay here. That sound good?" 

"Mhm." 

"Good."

For the next few hours, you're in and out of consciousness, comfortably and safely wrapped up in each other's arms. Finally, though, after you’ve spent most of the day in bed, you're able to convince Aaron to get up when your stomach growls loudly. 

"What should we eat?" He asks, sitting up against the headboard and looking adorable with his messy hair and sleepy expression. 

"Could make lasagne, pasta bake, chicken and noodles, maybe even a curry? What do you fancy?" 

"Hm," he thinks, his hand running over your bare skin sweetly. "Can we order in?" 

"Sure," you smile, pressing your lips to his cheek and grabbing your phone. "Anything in particular?" 

"Pizza," he answers immediately, making you laugh. "I haven't had pizza in ages."

"Didn't you say you had pizza last week at work that was really bad?" 

"Okay, fine, I haven't had good pizza in ages." 

"Then let’s buy you the best pizza there is, honey.”

After much consideration, you decide to buy two large pizzas, one with your favourite toppings and one with Aaron's favourite toppings so that you can share and have enough for the next day when Jack gets home, as well as fries and drinks.

Once the food is ordered, you put your phone down and open your bedside drawer for Aaron's present. He watches you with a raised eyebrow, eyes softening when you pull out a small box. "Honey, you didn't have to get me anything." 

"I know." You shuffle around so you're sitting facing him before you give him the box. "But I wanted to. Open it." 

He huffs out a laugh and takes the box from you, carefully unwrapping it and staring down at it for a few seconds. For a moment, your stomach drops, thinking he doesn't like it, but then he bites his lip to hide back a smile and you can see him tear up ever so slightly. “I love it.”

“I figured you’d prefer it as a necklace, that way you can wear it at work and it doesn’t get caught on your gun. I mean, I know you could wear it on your hand if you want, but it’s just a promise ring, and I figured that–”

“Honey.”

“I suppose you can wear it however you want and–”

“Hey,” he laughs, taking your face in his large hands and stopping you from rambling on. “I love it as it is. Thank you.” He picks up the ring and turns it over in his fingers, pausing when he finds that it’s been engraved inside with ‘We’re always with you, love Y/N and Jack’. That’s when he begins to tear up, pulling you in for a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He presses a kiss to your lips. “I love it so much. Thank you.”

“Do you want me to put it on you?” 

“Please,” he replies, kissing you again.

You take the necklace from his hand and move so that you’re mostly behind him, gently putting it on and pressing a kiss to his temple. “There you go, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” he replies, turning to hold your face softly in his hand and running his thumb over your cheek. “Truly.”

You press a kiss to his nose and laugh before jumping out of bed. “C’mon, let’s go get comfortable on the couch!”

The two of you make your way to the living room, carrying your blankets and pillows and picking out the comfiest sweaters you own so that you can wrap yourselves up. You stick on a movie you're sure Aaron's seen a million times, focusing mostly on his cute face as he watches with complete focus. His head is on your chest and he softly runs his fingers under the hem of your sweater, huffing out a laugh occasionally at the screen.

The doorbell rings and Aaron groans, pushing himself away from you. Before he can stand up properly, you beat him to it, gently pushing him by the shoulder so that he falls back onto the couch with a laugh. “I was just gonna get the door!”

“Nuh-uh! Birthday boy deserves to rest and relax, I’ll get the door.”

He rolls his eyes but pulls the blankets back over him anyway, getting comfortable. “It’s just a door, sweetheart.”

“And I shall be the one to open it,” you laugh, wiggling your eyebrows at him before making your way to the front door. Instead of it being the delivery guy you were expecting, in front of you stands Jack, already in a pair of pyjamas, and Jessica. “Wh–”

Jessica shushes you, unable to hold back her smile as Jack jumps in barely-contained excitement. "He got home early and he wants to surprise his dad," she whispers. 

"This will definitely be a surprise," you whisper back, “he’s expecting pizza.” Jack bounces into your arms and you wrap yourself around him as Jessica closes the door behind her. "He's gonna be so happy." 

"Honey?" Aaron calls from the living room. "Is everything alright?" 

"Yeah!" You call back, stifling a giggle as you walk back into the living room. "It wasn't the pizza guy, it was someone else." 

"Oh, who was it?" You open your mouth to reply but you’re not given the chance to as Jack races into the room with a loud cheer, launching himself at his dad. Aaron immediately breaks out into a huge grin and catches Jack mid-air, pulling him in for a tight hug. "Jack! What are you doing here, buddy?" 

"I wanted to surprise you, Daddy!" 

Jessica walks in and smiles at the sight. "He really did. He couldn't stop laughing all the way here." 

"You knew about this?" Aaron asks Jessica with a laugh. 

"Of course I did," she rolls her eyes, bumping her shoulder against yours as if to say is he being serious? "You didn't expect him to wander over here on his own from a whole ‘nother city, did you?" 

"No, I suppose not," Aaron chuckles, still hugging Jack as if his life depends on it. "I am so glad to see you, bud. You've just made my day so much better." 

"Hey!" 

"You know I didn’t mean it like that, sweetheart," he says with a loving smile before looking over at Jessica. "Thank you for bringing him over, I really appreciate it." 

"It's no problem," she smiles, walking over to the couch and leaning down to give him a hug. "Happy birthday, Aaron. Here." She presses a kiss to his temple and hands him a bag. 

"You didn't have to get me anything–" 

"I know," she smirks. "But I did, so enjoy it! I have to go, though, so I'll see you soon, yeah?" 

"Bye!" Jack replies, jumping up to give her a hug. "Love you!" 

"Love you too, Jack. Take care of your dad, yeah?" 

"Always!" 

"Thanks, Jessica."

Jessica walks out of the room and you follow her out to the front door. "Thank you for bringing him," you say, giving her a hug. "I know Aaron really appreciated that." 

"Of course," she smiles. “See ya.” 

You nod and open the door for her, jumping when there's a man already standing there with his hand ready to knock. "Pizza for Aaron?" 

"Oh, right, yes," you laugh, taking it from his hands and thanking him as he leaves. "Jess, do you wanna knick a slice before you head out?" 

She thinks for a second before shrugging. "Sure, why not." 

After she takes her slice and gives you another quick hug, you close the door and make your way to your boys who are cuddling on the couch. You smile at them, feeling a sense of belonging as you sit beside Jack and he immediately jumps to sit between you and Aaron so his shoulders are pressed against both of yours. 

As you eat the pizza and watch the movie, you lean over and press a soft kiss on Aaron’s lips. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he snuggles closer to you and Jack. “This has been the best one yet.”

Eventually, the three of you fall asleep cuddled up on the couch, warm and full and happier than ever.

tag list: @criminalskies @ssahotchnerr @hotchs-big-hands@citrusiove @sillyhotchsgirl

#this fic is honestly so cute and fluffy 🥺 #why isn't he real #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #winsteria favorites #winsteria reads

[winsteria]

a good day to be a swiftie and a thomas' fangirl 🤭

tg posted we have new taylor music we’ll be okay

#winsteria

[winsteria]

i just love a good slow burn and mutual pining between aaron and the reader 🤭 giggling to myself and i loved reading every line in this fic, i'm so excited for the next part!! 💞🤍

Baked Goodies ❤︎ Aaron Hotchner

♡ SUMMARY: aaron is smitten for his new graduate student neighbor as soon as he meets her.

♡ WARNINGS: male masturbation, allusions to smut but nothing fully written (part 2?), tooth-rotting fluff, mutual pining & slowburn, mentions of drinking and alcohol, mentions of criminal minds-esque violence

—♡

Aaron doesn’t think he’s ever blushed before now. The warmth on his cheeks was an unfamiliar feeling, as was the smile that was slowly making its way across his face. “Thank you,” He says with a voice that’s slightly lower than his usual tone. His hand reached out to grab the Tupperware container you were holding in yours. He tried to ignore the gentle shock that reached his fingertips as they made contact with yours. He also tried to ignore how soft the skin of your manicured hand was. It was probably a lotion, one with the same lavender scent radiating off your body.

“No need to thank me!” Your voice was so lively, so excitable. It was unlike anything he’d ever heard before. “If you ever need any more baked goods, I’m right across the street.” As you spoke, you lifted your arm to point at the house across the street from his.

You were his new neighbor. The house had been on sale for a few weeks and Aaron had been keeping his eye on it, seeing who the new family would be. He was hoping it would be a family that had a child similar to Jack’s age. He didn’t have any friends in the neighborhood, they all lived a few blocks over. Having someone Jack could bond with right across the street would make things easier for both him and his son. Especially when Aaron had to leave for days or weeks at a time due to his job.

But, selfishly, he was not disappointed it was you at all. You hadn’t disclosed if it was just you living in the house or not, but Aaron had already formed an imaginary life for you. It was just you and some pet living in the house, and he was going to be the protector. He’d check on you, you’d come to him when you need some manly job done at the house. And he hadn’t known you for more than five minutes yet.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a slight chuckle. “It was nice to meet you, Aaron!” You called to him as you stepped off his porch, heading to the next house to take your fresh-baked goods to. He closed the door, stepping in and taking a look at the container you’d dropped off. It had a mix of different treats, all homemade. There was a little note inside.

“Jack, I got food!” He yelled to his son as he made his way to the kitchen. He quickly sat it down, opened it, and took out the note before Jack could see it. “Hi! I’m Y/N, your new neighbor! I hope you enjoy these! (p.s. there’s no peanuts!) x” is what the note read. He smiled at the fact that you didn’t give off any real personal information, and even more at the fact that you worried about the allergies of the neighborhood. Not even people you knew. You were worried about the allergies of strangers. He felt his blush come back.

“What’s that?” Jack’s voice tore him away from his thoughts. “Someone moved into the house across the street, she baked some stuff and is giving it out,” Aaron explained. “For free?” Jack inquired, reaching for a chocolate chip cookie. Aaron laughed, “Yeah, she was introducing herself.” Jack nodded, biting into his cookie. “Wow!” He exclaimed, surprised at how good it tasted. Aaron laughed again, reaching for one of his own.

It was almost a week before Aaron saw you again. The team had been called in to work on a semi-local case that lasted four days. It wasn’t the worst thing Aaron had been through, but it’s never easy to come face-to-face with a serial killer. Then, he’d just become busy with paperwork and Jack’s after-school activities. Aaron had helped coach one of his soccer games, which wasn’t something he got to do often.

So now, late Sunday morning, he was finally making the walk across the street to your house. He had planned this since the moment you’d dropped the Tupperware container into his hand. He was going to return it just so he could see you again. 

He gently knocked on your door, loud enough you would hear it if you were around, but not loud enough to wake you up if you’d decided to sleep in today. He hadn’t seen enough to observe your routine. Not in a creepy way, just the way you notice when your neighbor’s car is in its driveway or if they do yardwork every Saturday evening. Come to think of it, he didn’t know any of his neighbor’s routines. He was never around enough to notice them.

When you opened the door, his attention left the surrounding houses and landed right on you. He had been looking around upon realizing how little he knew about the people in his neighborhood. You’d be the first one he’d get to know, he decided.

“Aaron!” You were basically beaming at him. He smiled and mumbled out a, “hello”. “How are you today?” You smiled, stepping out onto the porch to stand near him. “I’m good, I was just coming to return the container.” He explained, holding out the Tupperware. You reached out to take it from him, looking at his hands. You couldn’t help but notice the veins that ran along them.

“Oh! You didn’t have to,” You chuckled, moving your eyes up to look at his again. If you were being honest, you’d been surprised when he answered the door. Chatter about the older man from the neighbors you had given your baked goods to prior to arriving at his house had you ready to be nervous and intimidated.

Instead, you were undeniably attracted to him. When he had first opened the door after hearing your timid knocks, you couldn’t help but let your eyes scan his broad form. You didn’t think he had noticed, as he was too busy trying to figure out why someone was unexpectedly knocking at his door.

“Did you like them?” You asked with wide eyes. He could tell you were genuinely curious. “I did,” He smiled as he continued, “With the few that I had at least. My son loved them.”

“Your son?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking. Of course, an attractive man like him was married with kids. You weren’t sure why hadn’t assumed that before. “Yeah, Jack. He’s my son.” Aaron was awkward, not really knowing what you were asking. You recovered quickly, “Which ones were his favorite? I can make more!” Aaron smiled with a slight shake of his head, “He loved them all, you don’t have to worry about any of that.” You laughed, “I do! I love baking, it’s a nice way to pass time.” Aaron nodded along to your words, “I guess he liked the brownies the most, they were gone in a day.” You smiled, taking a mental note. 

“And your wife?” There was a hidden motive behind this question, one you hoped Aaron didn’t pick up on. You wanted, no, needed to know the details of this man’s life. You needed to know if you could keep up the fantasy you were creating of him. He let out an awkward laugh, “Uh, no,” he cleared his throat, “No wife. Just me and Jack.” You almost wanted to break out into a smile at his words, but you knew that would be inappropriate.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to like, pry, or anything.” The awkward tone of the conversation was beginning to make you uncomfortable. As much as you wanted to know, you didn’t want to blow your chances with him. “It’s okay,” he comforts you when it should definitely be the other way around, “Just a bit of a touchy subject.” You nodded in understanding. You two stood there in silence for a little bit, before Aaron stepped back. “I should get back,” He said, nodding towards his house.

“Yeah, yeah. It was good to see you again.” Aaron took note of the awkward smile and lack of eagerness in your voice. “You too, Y/N. See you around.” He stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked down the steps of your porch

He was just reaching the curb on his side of the street when he heard someone yell your name. You hadn’t retreated back into your house, instead opting to tidy up the furniture on your porch. He didn’t know you were waiting to make sure he had made it into the house safely. Aaron watched as the man who lived two houses down from you began to approach your porch.

“The cookies were delicious!” The man was still shouting as he walked over. Aaron couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. He watched as you giggled at his words, yelling back, “Thank you!” When the man approached you, he handed off the same kind of Tupperware container Aaron had given you. Aaron couldn’t help the jealousy that took over him as he realized this man and he had the same idea: returning the container just to see you again.

Once the man reached you and Aaron could no longer hear your conversation, he turned to continue walking back toward his home. He couldn’t help but notice how you giggled at this man’s words. Your conversation with him felt so natural, which was very different from the uncomfortable conversation you two had.

Aaron couldn’t help but feel insecure about this. Of course, you’d want to conversate with the younger, handsome, athletic guy who lived in the neighborhood. Why would you choose an older man who had a child and knees that creaked when he stood from his office chair? You wouldn’t. No one would.

Little did Aaron know, you had been watching him the entire time you were talking to the neighbor. You couldn’t help but check Aaron out as he walked away. His sweatpants hugged his hips deliciously and the athletic fit shirt showed off the muscles in his back. Aaron was hot and you couldn’t deny it.

The next time you saw Aaron was very unexpected. Your friend, Elise, had convinced you to volunteer at the local middle school, working the door for entry to the soccer game they were hosting on a Friday night. Part of her grad school program involved her working at this school, so you guys had signed up together. She was excited to see the students she had been working closely with.

 You, however, had completely forgotten you had a paper due for one of your graduate classes. So, she was up, selling tickets, conversating with parents, and wishing the students good luck, while you had your nose buried in your laptop. Textbooks and articles were spread across the table that was holding the register for the ticket money.

“Jack! You’re gonna do great!” You heard Elise encourage one of the students, not really paying attention anymore. It wasn’t until you heard a familiar voice that you looked up from your halfway-done paper. “He’s been practicing hard,” Aaron smiled, touselling the hair on the little boy’s head.

Your movement from behind your laptop caught his attention. “Hello, Y/N,” he said, not expecting to see you there. Jack and your friend both turned to face you, surprised that you and Aaron knew each other.

Aaron pushed Jack forward with a gentle hand on his back, “Buddy, do you remember the cookies and stuff our neighbor had dropped off?” Aaron asked him, ready to introduce you two. “You made them?” Jack asked, stepping closer to you. You nodded at him with a smile, “Yes! I live across the street from you!” You smiled at the young boy. You didn’t notice the eyebrow raise your friend gave you, knowing about the crush you had said you were growing on your older neighbor. She was connecting the dots.

“Do you work here?” Aaron asked as Jack ran into the stadium to join his team. You shook your head, pointing to Elise, “She does. She needed volunteers and asked me to work.” Aaron nodded. He let out a light laugh and pointed to your laptop, “Doesn’t seem like you're doing a lot of work.”

Your cheeks started to warm up in embarrassment, “I have a paper due that I completely forgot about.” Aaron was shocked to hear you discussing college. He thought you were older than that. “You’re in college?” He asked. You nodded again, “Grad school. I only have one more semester until I graduate.” You explained, and he relaxed. You were older than an undergraduate. 

He knew you were young, but he didn’t think he was being perverted by forming a small crush on you. Sure, some people may deem it inappropriate, but it is up to you in the end. If, by some miniscule chance, you harbored the same feelings he did, he wouldn’t feel weird about it, he didn’t think.

Aaron questioned what you were studying and you explained your major, your intended career, and how passionate you were about what you were doing. As your face lit up and your hands aided in your expressive explanation, it was as if Aaron could feel fondness growing in his chest. He began to feel warm, as if you were the sun shining on him.

 He hasn’t felt like this in a long time. The only feeling that could mirror what he was feeling now was when Jack got crowned MVP at his last soccer tournament. It’s the kind of pride that you feel when you know someone is going to go far. Aaron wanted to go with you.

Unfortunately, the buzzer interrupted his thoughts. He let out a breath, a small “Shit” escaping from his lips before he continued, “I gotta get to my seat.” He chucked, rushing away, “Good to see you.” He nodded at you and your friend before disappearing into the stadium.

“So that’s him? The hot next-door neighbor?” Elise squealed, with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “Elise! Stop!” You whisper-shouted at her, still weary of Aaron’s presence, “I have a paper to finish.” She laughed at the way you made your eyes big, emphasizing that she needed to drop the subject.

“Okay,” Elise breathed out after a while, relaxing in the seat next to you, “we’re done!” You nodded at her words, moving to save the file on your laptop. “What’s next?” You asked as you closed it, deciding to finish the paper later. “You hungry? The concession stand has fantastic pizza!” Even if you weren’t, the way she practically moaned about it had you wanting this pizza. “Sure,” you shrugged. You packed up your things as Elise dropped off the register where it needed to go, and then you guys headed into the stadium.

The line for the concession stand moved quickly. You couldn’t help but scan the stands for Aaron, wondering where he ended up sitting. When Elise proposed staying to see the end of the game, you agreed, solely because it would increase your chances of seeing him again.

And, you did. Not until the very end of the game, after the buzzer had sounded and Jack’s team ran to the sidelines, celebrating the win they had just claimed. The only way you found Aaron was through the cheers. He was the loudest one, the proudest parent sitting amongst the whole school. It brought a smile to your face to know how much he loved his son.

“Congratulations, kid!” Elise cheered for Jack as he approached the entrance to the field, by where you two were standing waiting to congratulate the team. Jack just smiled before turning back to his friends. “You guys did great!” You called from behind her. Aaron smiled at you as he reached where you and Elise were stood.

“So, will you guys be at more games?” He wasn’t going to invite you, as he felt that would be overstepping some invisible boundary he had made up in his head. But, if you were going to be around anyway he could at least offer to sit with you. “I definitely will be!” Elise cheered, turning to you. “I’ll see. You never know with school and work.” You shrugged, trying to mask the disappointment. You were not aware that Aaron was doing the same.

“Dad!” Jack shouts, running over to his father, “Can I sleep at Chris’ house tonight? The whole team is going!” You couldn’t help but notice how adorable he looked, and the fond look Aaron gave back to him. “Sure thing, buddy. Let’s just run home to get your stuff.” Aaron turned to bid a quick goodbye to you and Elise. To your surprise, he turned back to you. “Did you need a ride home?”

You stuttered at his words, “Uh, no, um, Elise-” “Yes, she does! I was her ride but my boyfriend just asked to meet somewhere!” Elise nudged you as she cut you off. She waved her phone to emphasize her point. “Thanks, Mr. Hotchner, you’re the best! Have fun at your sleepover, Jack!” Elise said as she stepped away from the group. Once you were the only one that could see her, she threw you a big smile and thumbs up, before taking off to your car.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that happened,” You gestured to your friend running off as you apologized. “No need to be sorry, I wouldn’t have offered if it bothered me. It’s not like you live far away.” You nodded and smiled at Aaron’s comforting words, thanking him again. “C’mon, the car’s this way.” You followed him and Jack, watching as Aaron congratulated Jack on the win and questioned him on the different strategies the team uses throughout.

Aaron opened the passenger door as Jack climbed his way into the back. Your jaw almost dropped as you realized he opened it for you. It was so casual. He didn’t even stop his conversation with Jack as he held it open for you. He laughed at something as you buckled your seat belt up.

 When he leaned over to check that you were comfortable in the seat, his eyes met yours. He gave you the softest smile you’d ever seen and you could feel butterflies take flight in your stomach. Your cheeks felt warm and you looked down at your hands, growing nervous under his gaze. You mumbled a soft “thank you” as he closed your door, walking around to the driver’s side.

Aaron noticed your nervousness this time. He could tell you were shocked at his actions. Initially, this made him sad as he realized that no man had ever shown you the care you deserved. However, that sadness quickly turned to excitement as he realized he could be the first. He wanted to show you how you deserved to be loved in so many ways, definitely more than just opening a door for you.

The drive to your homes was filled with laughter as you and Jack tried to sing the pop songs that were steadily playing on the radio. Jack kept stumbling over the words and you could not carry a tune to save your life. Aaron had matching butterflies to yours as you interacted with his son.

His car pulled into the driveway and Jack was inside the house faster than you could even open your door. You both laughed as Aaron made his way around the car to stand with you. “I can walk you across while he gets his things,” Aaron gestured to his house, indicating Jack might be a second inside.

“You don’t have to. Get him to his sleepover, he seems excited.” Aaron laughed, nodding along to your words. “Have a good night, Aaron.” He wished you the same and watched as you made your way to your house. His eyes didn’t leave your figure until you were safely inside.

Jack gathered his things for the sleepover very quickly. Aaron was almost certain he had forgotten something as they made their way back into the car. Once they were buckled and on their way, Jack shifted his body to face his dad.

“Dad?” He asked, getting his father’s attention. Aaron let out a gentle “hmm” of recognition. “Do you have a crush on our neighbor?” Aaron didn’t answer, reaching forward to turn up the radio, but the pink spreading across his dad’s cheeks was the only answer Jack needed.

Aaron was exhausted. Completely and totally exhausted. The case and been long and gut-wrenching. The only victory was the arrest of the unsub, as he had murdered all of his previous victims before the team could save them. Aaron was gone for two and a half weeks, and barely got any sleep while he was away.

“Thanks, JJ,” His voice was weak as he thanked her, reaching into the back of the SUV to get his go-bag. He had been too tired to drive himself. JJ had kindly offered after seeing the dark eye bags he was wearing. “Anytime, Hotch. Get some sleep.” He could only muster up a nod in return.

Aaron was turning the key in his lock when he heard your door. “Shit!” You yelped as the glass outer door slammed. He turned around with a chuckle, never too tired to see you. “Hello, Y/N!” He called as best he could with how tired he was.

He was suddenly wide awake when you faced him. He hoped you couldn’t see his eyes scan the entirety of your body, pausing at your very exposed thighs. You were in a loose, long-sleeved t-shirt that came down the end of your butt. The shorts you were wearing with it were incredibly short, barely covered by the shirt. Even with the distance between your houses, he could tell you weren’t wearing a bra.

He wanted to blame the way his dick was hardening on how tired he was, and definitely not the dirty thoughts he was having about you right now. He could imagine the way his rough hands would trace the skin across your thighs as he pulled you into his lap, preparing to devour you. His fantasies did not slow as you yelled back to him, very excitedly, “Aaron! Where have you been?”

He shook his head, attempting to clear it so he could have a normal conversation with you. His heart fluttered at the fact that you’d noticed his disappearance. “I was away for work,” he informed, “for far too long.” You erupted into a smile, walking off your porch, “Well, the neighborhood missed you!” He knew you were lying. No one in this neighborhood knew him. They didn’t care if he was gone or not.

But, being a profiler had its perks. He knew the hidden meaning in your words. You missed him. His brain was tired and his heart was beating a million times a minute. That must’ve been why his mouth was moving before he could stop it, “I missed you too.” The words rolled off of his tongue, no thought behind them. No thoughts, but definitely feelings.

You hoped Aaron couldn’t see the way your eyes lit up at his words. You could feel the heat growing in your cheeks as you continued to make your way to your little garden. That’s why you were out here, to get your front yard set up for Halloween decorations. “Get some rest, Aaron. Welcome home.

Even with you raising your voice, he could hear the softness behind it. You sounded so fond. This is how he wanted to be welcomed home after every case, with your sweet voice and gentle demeanor. “Have a nice night!” He called to you, before stepping through his front door.

He dropped his stuff by the door and reached up to loosen his tie. He kicked his shoes off and then moved to undo his belt. Leaving both the tie and the belt on the arm of the couch, he made his way right to the master bathroom. He had texted Jessica to let her know he would pick Jack up in the morning during the drive home, too tired to make the drive to her house.

Aaron had forgotten about his half-hard dick, too encompassed by your presence outside. He ignored it, stripping down and climbing into the hot shower. He hadn’t realized how tense his muscles were until the hot water ran down them, relaxing his whole body. As he loosened up, his mind drifted back to you. As he imagined holding onto your thighs as he fucked into you from behind. He could clearly make out the curve of your ass.

He felt as if he wasn’t controlling himself as his hands moved to his now fully hard dick. He didn’t mean to jerk himself off to dirty thoughts of you, his brand new, younger neighbor, but you looked so fucking sexy. His hand wrapped around his cock tighter as he remembered the outline of your tits that he could make out from across the street.

He could feel himself getting closer and closer to release as he tried to imagine the noises you would make for him. All the times you said his name replayed in his name and he tried to imagine you moaning it, whining it, grunting it, screaming it. He could’ve sworn he could smell your lavender perfume as he came. He opened his eyes as he finished stroking himself through his orgasm. He watched as the water washed away the cum that had landed on his hand and stomach.

“Fuck,” he said to himself, frustrated with the hold you had on him. Now that he got that out of his system, he couldn’t believe he just came to the thought of you.

 He had been having doubts earlier, wondering how inappropriate, how immoral, how wrong his growing crush was. Being a senior in graduate school, you had to be late 20s, maybe early 30s at the most. Being mid-40s, there was at least a 15-year age gap between the two of you.

He had to shake these thoughts. He quickly lathered himself up, rinsed off, and got out of the shower. He slipped on a pair of boxers and climbed into his bed. He was asleep in less than five minutes.

The next morning, he was woken up by knocks on his door. He had slept for about 11 hours, so he wasn’t mad that his slumber was interrupted. “Coming!” He yelled, shuffling for pants to throw on. Once he got a pair of plaid pajama pants on, he made his way down the hall to the front door.

He didn’t have time to register who it was before he heard your voice, “I’m so sorry to wake you up! I know it’s early but my car won’t start and I have an exam at one and I really need to be on time so I was wondering if maybe you could come look at it?”

Your mouth was moving faster than your brain could keep up with, obviously feeling bad about the whole situation. “Slow down,” Aaron breathed out, trying to get you to relax. His efforts failed as you ran your hand along your hairline and mumbled an “’m sorry”. “I can come, give me just a minute.” He stepped back, opening the door further for you to step inside to wait.

Your eyes widened at his silent invitation. You followed him through the door, awkwardly standing by the front door. You could tell from your spot in the entryway that the layout of his house mirrored yours. He was currently on his way down the hall to the master bedroom. To get a shirt, you presumed.

You definitely noticed the lack of clothing on his part. It was clear you’d disturbed him, and while you felt bad about that, you were ridiculously grateful. His morning voice, low-rise pajama pants, and hairy chest will be pressed into your memory, ready to be used when you needed some help finishing yourself off.

He appeared again quickly, fully clothed with socks and slides on his feet. He opened the front door, gesturing for you to go through. He followed you across the street to your driveway, where your very old sedan sat. “Can I have the key?” You nodded, retrieving the key from your pocket and pressing it into Aaron’s large hand.

As Aaron went to start the car, it was hard for him not to realize that this was the dream life he had conjured up for you when you first showed up on his porch. Here he was, being the manly man, helping you with your car. He tried turning it on and the sound of the engine sputtering made you want to cry. Without words, Aaron walked around to pop the hood, analyzing what was going on. He was quiet as he looked, and you wouldn’t dare interrupt it. “I think it’s the spark plugs. I have the stuff in my garage.” He said after a few minutes.

You nodded along to his words, trying to convince him that you knew exactly what he was talking about. As he began to make his way back across the street, you couldn’t help yourself from apologizing again. “Thank you, Aaron. I’m really sorry.” He was quick to turn back around to face you. With a hefty shake of his head, he spoke, “Please stop apologizing, this is what I’m here for.” He smiled at you, before returning to his journey to the garage.

If you were growing a crush on him before, it was full-fledged now. You needed to do something about this before your heart exploded at his actions and you soaked through your underwear at his words.

He returned after a few minutes, carrying a toolbox. You couldn’t do anything but stare as he worked on the car. He didn’t say much, focused on doing this right for you. Every once in a while he would attempt to explain what he was doing, but you were too distracted by the way the muscles in his arm contorted as he worked.

“That should do it,” He said as he made his way back into the driver’s seat. Sure enough, after a few turns of the key, the car sputtered to life. “Oh my god, thank you!” You spoke as he stepped up from the seat, throwing your arms around his neck. “You’re a lifesaver!” You squealed. Aaron’s hands awkwardly found their way around your waist, surprised at the sudden contact. Surprised, but very intrigued.

When you pulled away, Aaron felt cold. “Not a problem, Y/N.” He said as he wiped the grim off of his hands. “Why don’t you give me your number so next time you don’t have to walk all the way over?” The way he asked was so casual. He was so calm as your heartbeat increased with every word. Your number? Next time?

“Yeah! Sure!” You were afraid your voice sounded too excited, blowing your cover. Aaron picked up on it but didn’t mention it. You two quickly exchanged numbers, and he excused himself, stating he needed to pick up Jack. “Seriously, Aaron. Thank you.” You emphasized, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward. You were being bold. You pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek. He turned away before you could see the pink blush spread across his cheeks. “Anytime.” He said, starting to walk away.

You spent the next couple of hours cramming for your exam and trying to repress any thoughts of Aaron Hotchner that your brain was attempting to conjure up. It was working, your focus on passing this exam. However, on your drive to campus, your phone dinged. Your car showed you a message from ‘Aaron (neighbor)’. You were giddy the rest of the way, not wanting to open while you were driving.

When you parked, you opened your phone to a simple text: “Good luck on your exam! You got this.” You walked into class with a smile, and you were pretty sure you aced the exam. 

You were surprised at the amount of time you and Aaron spent texting. It was definitely an assumption you had made based solely on his age, but you did not expect him to want to text. However, he appeared to be better than men your age at it. Quick replies, letting you know when he’d be unavailable, and absolutely never leaving on you read. Sometimes you had to explain emojis or slang to him, but you found it adorable.

You had learned that he works for the FBI in a unit that catches things like serial killers, rapists, and kidnappers. He was away on a case right now, somewhere in California. He had learned that you had a very old dog, but other than that, it was just you in the house.

There were times when the conversation felt a bit flirty. Teasing jokes thrown around, compliments to each other. Part of you was starting to think he may reciprocate your feelings, but the other part was starting to think you were delusional. There was no way he could ever like you back.

Until he did.

Elise and a few of your other friends had dragged to a bar downtown. One you had never been to. Like normal, you and Aaron were in the middle of a text conversation while you were sitting at the bar. You had been up and dancing, having fun with your friends, but you couldn’t stay away from your phone long enough to enjoy your time.

Elise was picking up on this. After a few rounds of shots, she was getting aggravated. She couldn’t comprehend how you were managing an intelligent conversation with him, but she knew she had to get you away from it. She kept telling herself it was for your own good, not wanting to feel guilty about the atrocities she was about to commit.

However, it was going to be so much worse than either of you had anticipated.

Elise slithered her way in between you and the person sitting on the barstool next to you. The older lady on your right was definitely agitated with her actions, but Elise did not care. She saw the white screen of your text messages and long contact name and knew who you were texting. Even in her drunken state, she could recall all of the screenshots you had been sending her from your conversations with Aaron.

“Give it here,��� Elise slurred, reaching for your phone. It was still unlocked as she held it in her tight grasp. “You’re texting your hot middle-aged neighbor. Come shake some ass with us and find a guy your own age.” Her words were a little bit harsher than she intended. “Elise, stop. I’m enjoying texting my hot middle-aged neighbor and do not want to find a guy my own age” You demanded with your own drunken slur, reaching for the phone. “Uh-uh,” Elise shook her head, locking the phone and tucking into the cup of her bra, out of your reach for the rest of your night.

Only because you were forced to, you eventually did get up and dance with your friends. Just your friends, no men at all.

Elise only returned your phone at the very end of the night, when you needed to order an Uber home. Your head was starting to spin from all the alcohol, so that was all you did. After the order was placed, you gripped your phone as a way to keep the world from twirling underneath. The Uber arrived, too slow for your liking, and you were home. You immediately made your way towards the couch, ready to pass out.

The loud knocks on your door did nothing to help the pounding headache you had woken up with, and you couldn’t imagine who was knocking. The knocks were powerful and authoritarian. “Hello?” You questioned as you threw open the door. There was clearly attitude behind your greeting. “What did that mean?” Aaron’s voice sounded rushed as he pushed himself inside the door. He was dressed in a suit and acting very different than the Aaron you had known before.

“The message, the last one you sent.” He seemed stressed, running his hand through his hair. Something about the way he looked made him look exhausted. Your eyebrows furrowed, not understanding what he meant. You grabbed your phone from the end table next to your couch and opened your and Aaron’s message thread. Your eyes widened at the voice message marked as “read: 1:32 AM”.

“I-I don’t know,” you stuttered out, afraid to meet his eye, “What did it say?” Aaron took a step away from you. “It was Ms. Landon, uh, your friend from the game,” He sounded nervous as he spoke, “You should just listen to it.” You nodded, checking the volume on your phone and then listening to the message

It was right after Elise had grabbed your phone when she was berating you for being on your phone the whole time. When she mentioned your hot middle-aged neighbor and you replied, also calling him your hot middle-aged neighbor. And saying you did not want to find a guy your age because of him.

“Aaron, I am so sorry-” You started, wanting to apologize for your and your friend’s actions and blame the whole thing on being intoxicated, but he cut you off. “Forgive me for barging in here like this, Y/N, but I need to know why you were ignoring your friends to text me.” He finally locked eyes with you, and the eye bags under his eyes were the first thing you noticed.

There was a beat of silence, until he continued, “Y/N, I have enjoyed the sparse moments we have shared together. And I may be reading this wrong, I may just be incredibly sleep-deprived, but I think you have as well. I understand that I am older than you, but I would like to continue to have these moments with you. I would like to see what else we can do together.” 

Your heart started to beat at his confession. You nodded at his words, rendered speechless for the first time in your life. You couldn’t stop yourself as your legs moved forward, reaching for his face and pulling him into a kiss.

There was very little hesitation as Aaron’s hands slipped around your waist, pulling you closer. You didn’t know he’d been waiting to do this since you met, but you were going to find out soon. His hands gripped you tighter as he deepened the kiss, moving his tongue into your mouth. He was very skillful in the way he held you and the way he kissed you.

You didn’t separate until you needed air. If it wasn’t for the fact that you needed air to live, you could’ve stayed wrapped up with him forever. Your forehead was pressed to his as you whispered, “Are we gonna talk about this?” He knew that you were talking about where you were supposed to go from here. Is it gonna be a relationship? Are you going to be exclusive? How would it work with him being away so much? What would your role in Jack’s life be?

Aaron decided all of these questions would remain unanswered as he said, “Later, we got things to do right now..” He pulled you tight against him, roughly pressing his lips to yours again.

#i wouldn't mind if aaron thinks of me in an inappropriate way to get himself off 🤭 #mutual pining + slow burn = perfect #thinking of aaron hotchner with his morning voice and him wearing nothing but boxers 🤭 #aaron hotchner x reader #winsteria reads

[winsteria]

THIS IS SO GOOD. All the love and comfort in this fic were perfectly captured, and it's so beautifully written and I loved it so much!! <33 Aaron deserves all the love and attention in the world. Poor baby :(( I just want to be the one that will be there for him 🥺💗

A Hundred Times Over

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x You

Warnings: None.

WC: 1.4k

A/N: Inspired by Lana. What's new?

You don't ever have to be stronger than you really are When you're lying in my arms, baby You don't ever have to go faster than your fastest pace Or faster than my fastest cars

Not proofread.

The feeling of two strong arms encircling your waist while a kiss is planted in the middle of your chest is by far one of your favorites, especially when it wakes you up.

Being awakened by Aaron burying his face in your stomach is a privilege, and it is quite incredible to be woken up by him clutching you, seeking some comfort.

You slowly blink away your sleepiness, revelling in the fact that Aaron wakes you up when he comes in late because he needs your touch to breathe and calm down.

Although he never intends to wake you, he is aware of how light of a sleeper you are. But you’ve told him enough times that waking up to him in his rumpled suit with his weight draped over you is by far your favorite way to wake up, regardless of the hour.

You bury your hands in his hair as you often do in this position, and he lets his head droop further.

“You okay, sweetheart?” you whisper.

"Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you," he mumbles against the soft material of your shirt. Well, technically, it’s his shirt but you both know he’s not going to wear it again. 

Though Aaron constantly apologizes for waking you, you are certain that he has realized that you don't mind.

"I’m glad you did."

You run your fingers through his hair some more, your fingertips gently grazing his temples before stroking his scalp. You can feel some tightness in his neck, so you sink your fingers into his muscles there before going back to massaging his scalp. 

He’s putty in your hands in no time, his shoulders visibly sagging the more you work.

You always try to soothe his worries away because his mind is often loud in the silent room when he comes back from a bad case in the middle of the night, and somehow, you feel like you can actually help him when you share these moments with him. 

If anything, he knows he’s not alone, and it’s important to you that he never feels like he is. 

He hides his face into your shirt a bit more, and his breathing slows considerably the more he presses his face into your stomach.

You always love it when he puts his head on your chest or stomach when he comes home in the middle of the night, and you are amazed when he trusts you enough to put his weight on top of you as well. 

You think Aaron knows you find it as comforting as he does, and when you absentmindedly begin to scratch his scalp with your nails, he hums contentedly as the tension in his body releases, evaporating with each tender touch.

You shift so as to place a tender kiss on his forehead before resuming your movements, his grasp on your waist tightening just as your lips linger on his skin.

You smile a little, relieved he’s not too far gone tonight. Fortunately, you know by now that your touch often brings him back from the darkest confines of his mind, but you also know when Aaron needs a bit more than a scalp massage to be okay with the world and the people he has to deal with. 

You keep combing your fingers through his hair, softly stroking his head before letting your nails graze his scalp again. You rub his temples and the back of his neck before you go back to his hair, and Aaron positively melts into your hands the longer you try and let him know he’ll never have to face anything alone.

Somewhere deep down, you think he knows you’re never going to leave his side, and his sigh of relief is loud and warm on your chest when you murmur a simple “I love you” in the dark room. 

"Are you okay?" you ask.

"Better now."

You never force him to talk about his job, or the sometimes-severe mental toll it takes. He just talks when he’s ready. 

It took a long time for him to actually open up to you and share, but once he started, he never stopped. He takes a while sometimes, but he always talks. And you’re so proud of him because he never sits alone in his pain. He doesn’t let the voices get too loud. He never waits for anything to become unbearable. He knows you’re there to carry it with him, and that is your greatest accomplishment. 

For now, though, you just have to hold him until he’s ready.

You just have to remind him you’re always going to be there for him. 

You know he could probably fall asleep like this, he’s done it before, but you want him comfortable so he can get a good night’s rest. 

You slip out from under him, offering him your hand when he looks slightly puzzled. 

“Come on, baby. Let’s get in the shower.” 

Aaron never fights you when you want to take care of him. Well, at first it took some getting used to, but now he just blindly follows you everywhere you go.

He even kneels when you tell him to, and he lets you wash his hair. You’re careful not to get shampoo into his eyes, and when you start to rinse it off, he closes his eyes, the warm water washing away more than just soap. 

When you start massaging his shoulders, he is completely pliant and trusting under the warm spray, undoubtedly aware that you will take care of him like you have done so many times before.  

His beautiful brown eyes are glassy when he opens them again, and he’s clearly tired, but you can tell he’s grateful, and even if exhaustion is seeping out of his bones, he smiles lazily at you as you lean down to peck his forehead. 

You make quick work of showering yourself, and when you lead him out of the shower, wrapping him in a towel, his eyes flutter shut for a few seconds. 

You bring him into the bedroom before you help him into a fresh pair of boxers, his slight shivering clue enough that he needs to wear more than just boxers to bed tonight. 

“Let’s get you into those grey sweatpants I bought you,” you say a bit under your breath, reaching for them and helping him into them.

They suit him perfectly. 

You knew they would. 

You’re about to reach for the drawer where he keeps his tee shirts, but Aaron stops you, bringing you close to his chest and hugging you firmly, his arms secure around your shoulders. 

You wrap your arms around his waist, closing your eyes as your head meets his chest.

He kisses your crown, his hot breath fanning over your hair. “I’m okay.”

You nod, allowing yourself a few seconds to cherish this moment.

You know how he is. He means he’s okay to sleep, and that he’ll talk to you about it in the morning. 

You know him. And he knows you. He knows better than to try and trick you. 

He pulls you into bed shortly after, his face once again buried in your stomach as you gently ghost your fingertips over his bare shoulders and upper back, raising goosebumps where you trail your fingers over his skin. 

“I love you,” he mumbles.

You grin, once more finding yourself incredibly lucky to be on the receiving end of those words. 

You know for sure you’ll never tire of hearing them. 

“I love you, too.”

Normally, you wait for him to fall asleep and for his quiet snores to fill the room before allowing yourself to follow suit, but you can tell he’s still awake when he entangles his legs with yours, his hold on you tightening as he draws in a deep yet shaky breath.

“Will you marry me?”

You smile fully as tears well up in your eyes, aware he’s too nervous to notice.

You’re both shaking, and while you’re shaking because of how happy you are, you know he’s trembling because he’s nervous.  

“A hundred times over. Yes.” 

You think about how most people are surprised when their significant other proposes, about how they gasp or squeal, but frankly, none of that happens because you answered him before that could happen. 

None of that happens because Aaron sighs in relief and props himself up to kiss you before you can utter another sound. 

When he finally drifts off to sleep in your arms, you can barely convince yourself to get some rest because you are too stunned by the incredible truth that you’ll have the honor of being his forever. 

You are simply too infatuated with reality to let it stop, even for a moment.  

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #winsteria's comfort fic #winsteria favorites #winsteria reads

[winsteria]

happy birthday to the love of my life!! 💞 i am honestly glad that i've met him, and i know that all the feelings (love, admiration, horniness, and many more that i can't name) that i feel for him will be forevermore!! i honestly can't understand how much love i have for this man, he ruined every other man for me !! 😩 he deserves all the love and good things in the world and i'd be happy to shower him with all that love !! 🤭❤️

he’s my favorite person ever and i’m so happy and grateful that he was born bc he brings me comfort through his characters when i feel completely alone :( i hope he has the best birthday 🥹🫶🏻

pic creds: @ssahotchnerxx and i think!! @/ssah.otch on insta 🫶🏻

#i don't care if my friends and people i know irl says he's old #if he's old then why so hot? #61 never looked so good !! 😩❤️ #if he's an old man then he's my old man #he's hot #like so hot #and i love him so much #if i can't have him could i just please be given a chance to hug him? 😩 #i just know that his embrace would be filled with so much warmth and comfort 🥹 #i love him so much :(( #aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #hotch #thomas gibson

[winsteria]

THEY'RE MAKING UP AAA!! Now I'm hoping for them to cross the line and be more than friends 🤭🤭 so excited to see what happens next!! <33

Part 4 -

Warnings for this part: implied past abuse, spiralling thoughts, dark and twisty stuff, mention of serial killers, graphic descriptions of what serial killers can do, pining, implied masturbation, light angst, terrible writing

Pairing: Professor!Hotchner x Fem!Student!Reader

MINORS DNI - 18+

Word count: 6.3k

You were a strong woman. You always had been. You never made it a habit to rely on anyone because everyone always left you.

Your mom left you before she even held you. Your dad died before you even finished your first year of college. Since then, you were often alone and you didn’t mind it all that much.

Then, you came to Virginia for grad school and you met Ethel. She was the kindest woman you had ever met. She was sweet, caring, warm and everything you had always wanted in the mother you never had.

Ethel took you under her wing almost as soon as you moved across the hall and while you had made it a habit to never rely on anyone, Ethel was a constant part of your life and you were incredibly grateful for her. But since Ethel knew you well, she knew when you were hurting. She knew that when you didn’t make her listen to new music you had found or showed her a new book you had read, it meant something troubled you.

Ethel kept showing up with food and you made an effort to bake dessert every time she dropped by. It was part of the deal. She cooked, you baked.

You always loved baking. It was something you had shared with your dad and your dad was also the reason why you had such high expectations when it came to the men you dated. Your dad danced with your stepmother whenever she asked, he brought her flowers, he left her little notes, he was always very loving and gentle, and it had always reminded you that love wasn’t in the big gestures.

You were your dad’s greatest fan from day 1. Your dad showed you great music, he introduced you to literature and poetry, he made you learn other languages, he let you dance with your little feet on his big feet and he always pushed you to reach for the stars. He read to you every night. He showed up to every major thing that happened in your life with a smile on his face and a proud look. While you were never rich, he always made sure you were cared for, and he had always been a great dad.

It was the main reason why you were never able to blame him for your stepmother. She had always been vile to you, and while it never happened in front of your dad, you wouldn’t tell your dad. You wouldn't deprive your dad the joy of loving again after your mom had left him with a newborn baby. Your dad truly loved Marianne so you took every last insult she threw at you when you were alone with her. You took it when she raised her hand on you as a child, you took it when she locked you out of your childhood home when your dad died. And when you finally went back one last time to make sure she was okay, you noticed that she had left with everything your dad had ever owned, so you never looked back. This time, you had left.

You had your fair share of pain before you got to Virginia, enough for a lifetime, yet you had still pursued an unavailable man because you felt compelled to. There was no denying that there was some kind of magnetic pull between you and Hotch. It had been there ever since you shook his hand on the first day you met him. But you had been bold to pursue him the way you had.

And now, you were left missing your talks and his emails. Ever since you left his office two weeks ago, you had decided it was best to stop pestering him with questions. You had stopped walking up to him after class and you just took your notes quietly in class instead of interacting with him and the material like you used to. It pained you to see him try to get you and your classmates to participate, but you knew that interacting with him was what got you hurt in the first place.

Your self-destructive tendencies had started to show after your dad died. They were even more evident by the time you first started dating Michael, and after a year, those tendencies showed up more often than not and it led to the relationship ending, with Michael leaving you for another woman. You couldn’t blame him either. He deserved better.

Those self-destructive tendencies were probably why you had promised Hotch to help him out with this paper regardless of what happened in his office two weeks ago.

He had cornered you in front of Chief Bitch, so you had no choice but to agree because while it was certainly not a good idea to work with Hotch, it sounded better than having Chief Bitch volunteer to help him out. Chief Bitch often made subtle comments about Hotch, and while he couldn’t hear them, you could. Chief Bitch certainly found Hotch attractive and you had to listen more than once when she commented on his rather enticing physical features. At least, she had left you alone ever since Hotch had intervened.

You were completely lost in thought when Ethel nudged you to eat and you made an effort to eat a bit at her prompting.

“Honey, I know I’m not your mom but I like to think I’m your friend. Will you please talk to me?” Ethel asked, her voice as soft as it had ever been.

“I can’t, Ethel. But it’s just boy problems. Don’t worry.”

“Boy problems? Is it about that professor of yours?”

You nodded, opting to offer her part of the truth. You were indeed friends and you didn't like the thought of lying to her. “I promised to help him out with something, but I don’t think it’s wise to spend time with him alone.”

“Why? Has he done something? You know I have some very high-up friends. I could make him-”

You shook your head instantly, knowing that Ethel could hurt his career way more than you ever could. “No. It’s all good. If anything, I did something. I guess we could have been friends but I think I screwed up.”

Ethel walked towards you and hugged you, comforting you like you wished someone would have when your dad died. “Well, you are the sweetest thing Y/N, so don’t worry. If he still wants to work with you after whatever it is you did, I think you’re good, darling.”

You let go of Ethel, nodding in agreement. “I guess we’ll see. I’m meeting with him tomorrow.”

Ethel chuckled and you looked up at her confused.

“That’s the reason why you’ve got your knickers in a twist, isn't it?”

“Nobody says that anymore, Ethel,” you replied, chuckling. Ethel always found a way to make you laugh and you loved her for it.

“Well, I say it.”

You nodded, eating your food. “You’re the only one who can make it sound cool.”

Ethel smiled at you and everything felt a bit better by the time you went to bed that night. You didn’t know why you were so nervous about seeing Hotch again. You saw him plenty in class. But there was something about going to his office that made you question whether it was a good idea to go there again.

You thought about his sad eyes in the past two weeks when you left class without stopping to talk to him. You weren’t sure if you were just imagining things or if he actually missed your talks as much as you did.

At night, it was always more difficult not to think about him. You definitely didn’t think about how hard he had been under you in his office. You didn’t think about his mouth on your breasts. You didn’t think about his lips touching yours. You didn’t think about his soft touches. Except he was all you could think about, especially when you were alone at night.

Your magic wand wouldn’t even survive another night with a horny you. You thought about Hotch every night since then and it seemed like you couldn’t help thinking about him fucking you, using his mouth or his fingers on you. You couldn’t help thinking he would look absolutely beautiful with pleasure written across his features. You thought about burying your fingers inside his hair again. You thought about him groaning. You thought about feeling him, feeling his dick inside you. He left you completely breathless in your fantasies.

You just knew he would be kind and gentle but he’d be rough if you asked. He’d be the best paradox you had ever had because he was one himself. He looked serious and stern most of the time, but you had seen him laugh and you just knew that his hard exterior was a groomed habit by now. He was actually nice, he was sweet and he was incredibly charming.

But each and every time your thoughts drifted towards Hotch, you thought about him agreeing to a date while you were there. You thought about watching him put up some walls between you in real time and it made your chest ache. You only had to remember that he agreed to see another woman right in front of you to feel absolutely disgusted to allow him to be a part of your fantasies.

Remembering what happened two weeks ago worked to stop the throbbing between your legs a few times, but you couldn’t help it other times and it was always him you thought about regardless.

He had hurt you. And what was worse was that you knew he knew he had hurt you.

You shouldn’t even miss him in the first place, especially not after he hurt you. But you missed hearing your name uttered from his lips and you missed asking him questions. You missed a man you didn’t even know all that well.

At some point in the past two weeks, you had to stop wondering if he still read puns to Jack. You had to stop torturing yourself over what you could have done to convince him you were worth it, that you were willing to risk it all for him. It wasn't reasonable in the least, but you would still risk it all for him.

The next morning, you walked to the coffee shop on campus, the one place that was haunted by memories of him smiling at you. You had no choice but to stop by for coffee after another sleepless night though. You made your way to his office with two cups of coffee without even realizing it.

You didn’t knock when you got there, his door was open so you just entered his office and offered him the cup of coffee you had bought him. You left the door open for your own sake, even if he gestured for you to close it behind you.

“Hi,” he said, visibly scanning your face.

You instantly breathed easier when you heard his voice and it was easy to reply, “Hi.”

He gestured towards the coffee you had just offered him and he gave you a small smile. “Thank you.”

“Sure.”

“Y/N-”

You held up your hand, shutting him up instantly. “Look, we don’t have to talk about it. It was a mistake and I’m sorry I overstepped,” you said with a rehearsed but careful tone.

“Y/N,” he pleaded and this time you looked into his eyes, meeting a pained expression you were sure he could see behind your eyes as well.

You decided to soldier on. “Let’s get to work, shall we?” You paused and took out his books from your bag as well as your notebook. You had jotted down a few things already. “I think we should write up on hedonistic serial killers like you said. There’s not enough out there to differentiate the three types of hedonistic killers.”

You hoped he would conceal his pained expression and transition to his working state because seeing pain in his eyes was more than you could bear. You knew he hid his pain well, probably better than most people. You recognized his coping mechanisms because you used the same coping mechanisms. It was obvious by now why he felt so familiar to you from the start. You had thought about every single interaction you had shared with him and you knew without a doubt that you shared a connection with him that went beyond mere physical desires. It was something in his demeanor, in his eyes, in his nervous tics, you just knew him on some level. You recognized him to a certain degree and trauma bonding was the last thing you needed to do with the man in front of you.

“Three types that we know of,” he replied, slipping back to his work mode.

“Well, yes. But we should write something about-"

He interrupted you, pointing at your notebook. “What are the three types of hedonistic killers?”

You raised your eyebrows. “You know I know.”

Hotch's expression softened as he shook his head, but his stoic mask remained.  “Well, no. I don’t anymore because you won’t interact with the material or ask questions.”

“I thought it best to keep my distance,” you explained, knowing he expected an explanation for the cold shoulder.

“I miss talking to you,” he blurted out and it caught you by surprise that he was so forthright.

You shielded your personal feelings as best as you could and you focused on the words in your notebook, deciding that answering his question was the best course of action for your sake.

“The three types of hedonistic killers are split into three subcategories: comfort, lust and thrill. Comfort killers are usually after material gains. They want a comfortable lifestyle. Their victims will often be family members or close acquaintances. Poison is often used by comfort killers. As far as we know, female serial killers are often comfort killers. A notorious example of that was Dorothea Puente. As for lust murderers, they often suffer from erotophonophilia. Their sexual gratification or arousal is contingent on the death of another human being. Lust murderers often kill their victims during sex. They will also often mutilate their partner’s sexual organs post-mortem. Lust murderers tend to experiment with evisceration.”

“How would lust murderers kill their victims?” he asked, completely focused on you and you decided it was best if you didn’t notice his gaze lingering on your lips as you spoke.

You maintained eye-contact, not needing your notes to answer that. “They need close contact with their victims to find it pleasurable. They’d use knives or their own hands.”

“Who is the most famous lust murderer?”

You frowned because he knew you knew. He was just making you talk. “Dahmer. But Kenneth Bianchi, one of the Hillside Stranglers, would also fit that description.”

He leaned forwards on his elbows, his eyes still on you. “What about thrill murderers?”

“Thrill murderers get off on inducing pain and terror. They love the adrenaline rush they get from hunting their victims. To them, it’s only about the kill. The attack won’t be prolonged. There would be no sexual aspect.”

He nodded. “What about their victims?”

You furrowed your brow. You didn't understand why he was asking you all of this because he knew you knew. “Usually total strangers.”

“Who’s a famous thrill murderer?” he asked, a tiny smile escaping his lips.

You looked down, unable to look at him smiling. “The Zodiac.”

“You read all my books really closely, huh?”

You heard the teasing undertone and you decided to concede it. “They’re fun to read.”

He scoffed. “I think your notion of fun is flawed.”

You looked back up, meeting his soft gaze once more. “I enjoy reading other things, don’t worry.”

“Do you really?” he asked, and you knew you shouldn’t entertain his more personal questions but his office door was open so nothing could happen.

“Of course I do.”

“Alright. I’ll bite, Y/N. What’s your favorite book then?”

“Crime and Punishment.”

He laughed at that, a full-on hearty and deep laugh. You had to join in because it was kind of ironic that you just admitted to loving a fiction novel about murder. You watched him laugh and you wished once more that you would be able to be friends. While he had hurt you, you really felt better whenever he laughed and you loved hearing him laugh. You weren't strong enough to give this up.

“I listened to some more of Ricky Montgomery's music. This December is really good.”

You shook your head, knowing this was crossing a line you weren’t willing to cross. “Let’s not do this, Hotch.”

He stood up and he went to close the door before regaining his desk chair in front of you. “You know, I didn’t go on that date.”

“Hotch-” you warned, unable to go down that path again.

“You can call me Aaron, you know. Especially when we’re alone.”

“No. I can’t.”

“Why?”

You looked back into his beautiful brown eyes and you knew you wouldn't survive him turning you down again. “We need a few boundaries if we’re going to work together,” you reiterated.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, tilting his head a little on the side and damn it, you wanted him more than ever before.

“Look, I’ll make you a deal, Hotch. Once or twice a week, I’ll write you an email. I’ll say something I’d say to a friend. And you do the same. And that’s it. That’s how we channel this thing into something healthy. Whatever this thing is.”

He seemed to be considering it but he finally nodded. “Deal.”

“Good. Now, what do you want me to work on?” you asked, doing your best to focus on anything but him.

“Write up a few points on hedonistic killers and I’ll write up something on mission-oriented killers. Then we’ll compare notes. We’ll talk about visionary killers another day.”

“What’s your paper going to be about?”

“Profiling types of killers based on behavioral clues.”

You got to work, grateful to have found a way to be around him.

So that night, you wrote him the email you promised him.

Hi Hotch,

For the sake of being unprofessional and friendly, I thought I’d tell you I genuinely read other things.

I read some Sylvia Plath recently. I love A Mad Girl’s Love Song. I think it’s one of my favorite poems. I love Wordsworth, Frost, Poe, Neruda and Whitman with all my heart. My dad used to read poems to me before bed and it stays with me long after his death. It should come as no surprise to you that my favorite movie is Dead Poets Society.

I’m glad you took a liking to Ricky. You should listen to Snow, it’s poetic.

There’s only so many times you can write poem, poet and poetic in an email.

Let me bug you with a question once more: What’s your favorite song to play on your guitar?

Y/N

You made yourself some tea and decided to read on your couch before bed and you heard your phone chime with an email notification when you brushed your teeth.

You picked it up, seeing Hotch had already replied.

Hi Y/N,

I’m glad you read other things. I do, too. Plath is very dear to me. Somehow, I just know that in another life, you’d be a troubled yet fascinating English lit major.

I’m sorry about your dad. I lost my dad when I was just a teenager and while I didn’t have a lot of love for him, it still pained me to lose him. I can only imagine what you went through if your dad was half as wonderful as you are.

I love Dead Poets Society. It’s always been a favorite of mine. Have you read the book?

My favorite song to play is Better Together by Jack Johnson, but my favorite song of all time is Somewhere Only We Know by Keane.

On that note, I have just listened to Snow. It’s wonderful. Did you know Ricky will be near us in two weeks? There’s a concert in Washington. We could go. As friends.

Aaron

You still felt that warmth whenever you talked to him and it didn’t matter whether it was his voice or an email. You still liked him even if he had hurt you.

Could you be his friend? Could you go see Ricky Montgomery and listen to every song, knowing full well you would be longing for the man next to you? Could you do this at all? Why were you doing this?

A part of you knew you shouldn’t entertain the idea of being his friend. What would happen the moment he started dating someone? It would absolutely crush you.

But then, you were too self-destructive not to be his friend. You actually enjoyed talking to him. You enjoyed his presence. If you were going to do this, you would need to protect yourself better. You needed to find a way to not let the chemistry between you take over.

You didn’t reply, mostly because you needed to consider his offer more carefully and because you weren’t sure you were level-headed enough to give him an answer.

He had been trying to mend whatever it was that happened, it was clear he was trying to fix it to some extent, but you weren’t sure why quite yet. You didn't know what had changed to make him try to fix this.

You went to work the next morning and you shared dinner with Ethel most nights that week. You got back into your normal routine for the rest of the week, feeling better that things with Hotch weren't as messed up.

You even started asking questions again in class because you couldn’t stomach seeing Hotch speaking to himself.

It worked for the most part, your agreement to send each other emails. You still wanted him. But you were able to work together and you started channeling your energy and attraction into the unprofessional emails you shared with Hotch. It was a good outlet for whatever tension there was between you. It didn’t compare to the real thing, but you knew it was perhaps better this way.

You were cleaning up your apartment when Ethel entered your apartment with dinner one night. You had already baked her a blueberry pie and it smelled heavenly around the apartment.

“We’re having chicken casserole, honey,” she called out to you.

You loved Ethel’s food, but you had a soft spot for her chicken casserole and she knew it. “Ethel, I love you.”

“I love you, too, dear.” She paused and gave you an envelope. “Almost forgot. A nice gentleman came by and dropped this off for you.”

You took the envelope from her and wondered what it was. You opened it and you squealed when you found a ticket for Ricky Montgomery for this Friday along with a handwritten note.

Y/N,

You deserve a real apology and I couldn’t find the right words so I thought this would be a nice attempt to try and start to fix things. Please come with me?

Aaron

“He was a nice-looking fella,” Ethel added, looking at the note in your hands. “So… Who’s he?”

“He’s my professor,” you replied, not caring if Ethel knew his real name.

“He’s taking you out on a date?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with joy.

“No. We’re just trying to be friends,” you clarified.

Ethel took the envelope and its contents from you, smiling broadly. “He’s bringing you to Washington to see one of your favorite singers, Y/N. That’s a date if I’ve ever seen one.”

You felt your cheeks redden at the idea and you knew it couldn’t happen. “No, it’s not, and I haven’t said yes.”

“We both know you will.” Ethel put the envelope on your kitchen counter and she proceeded to smell the pie you had made. You didn't argue with her because you didn't know if you could actually say no to Hotch.

You ate with Ethel and she talked about her children and how she missed them. You listened closely to every detail and you prompted her to talk more about her children, you always told her to talk as much as she wanted because she was your closest friend and she needed someone to listen to her sometimes.

You spent the rest of the evening debating what to do about Hotch. You finally took your phone and started typing out a few alternatives. Ultimately, you emailed Hotch to thank him and you decided to accept his offer. Friends went out together all the time. You could do this.

You were aware that he must have gone to some trouble to get you tickets and it was a thoughtful gesture. If you were going to spend the rest of the semester working with him, you needed to get along anyway. You could be friends. You could do this. You could push aside your feelings whatever they were and you could forget about how attractive he was if you made a real effort. Hotch probably knew you couldn’t say no to seeing Ricky live, and while you were aware it was an olive branch, you were actually grateful.

You went to Hotch’s office the next morning, hoping to thank him in person for the gesture. You even brought him coffee to express how thankful you were.

“I just wanted to drop by and thank you,” you said, offering him his cup of coffee.

“I really want to make it up to you, Y/N,” he replied, looking at you softly. He looked sincere and it pained you to see him look this good all the time.

“Well, it’s a good start,” you started and you corrected yourself, “I mean, it’s a good test. We’ll be able to see if we can be friends if we actually spend some time together.”

He nodded and offered you a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll pick you up at 5 Friday night. We can go into town and eat before the concert.”

“Or I can just meet you there,” you suggested. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to spend 40 minutes in his car with him otherwise.

“No. It wasn’t a suggestion. I’m telling you I’m picking you up at 5. Be ready at 5,” he explained.

“What about Jack? Don’t you have to- I don’t know? Make him dinner?”

“He’s going to be with his aunt Jessica,” he clarified.

“Fine. I’ll see you at 5 Friday night,” you relented.

It was no surprise that come Friday night, you were a nervous mess. You were so anxious about going out with him and it didn’t help that Ethel kept teasing you about going out on a date with him, even if you insisted repeatedly that it wasn’t a date.

When he knocked on your door, you did your best to contain your excitement. You gave your dress one last look and you decided it was classy enough without being too much.

You smiled as you opened the door and instantly Hotch smiled back. He was breathtaking in his grey suit and you had to remind yourself to breathe. This wasn't a date.

“Wow. You look beautiful.”

You instantly shook your head. You wanted to reply he looked amazing too but you knew it wasn’t going to work out if you kept complimenting one another.

“No. No compliments. It’s what got us into trouble in the first place. I genuinely want to be your friend, don’t make it difficult for me.”

“Fine,” he replied, but clearly he wanted to say more than just that.

You got out of your apartment and you followed him out towards his car. He went to open the passenger door for you but you stopped him. This wasn't a date.

You smiled at him in the car, hoping he would understand you weren’t mad because of his compliment earlier. “You look very handsome, Hotch, but as your friend, you should lose the tie. You look way too official.”

He removed it at your prompting and he threw it behind him. "It was a nice tie."

"Yes. But you don't have to wear suits all the time, you know."

“Do you know why I wear suits all the time?” he asked.

You nodded. “It’s like they’re your shields.”

“It’s my way of reminding myself I have responsibilities.”

“You shouldn’t hide behind your suits, though,” you added.

“I have to sometimes, Y/N. It’s important that I remember, especially around you.”

“Fair enough,” you conceded. You knew why he was telling you this. You knew by now he wasn’t indifferent. You weren’t either. But you could do this.

Ricky played through almost every song of his album and Hotch and you were able to remain friendly without overstepping.

"Thank you for bringing me here."

"The pleasure is all mine, Y/N."

Of course, when Ricky started playing My Heart is Buried in Venice, Hotch turned to face you with the warmest look in his eyes. It reminded you of the night in your apartment when you had felt hopeful this would turn into something. The night where you had hope before it all fell apart the next day.

“Dance with me?” he suggested with the cutest puppy eyes you had ever seen on anyone.

You frowned a little. “Should we?”

He delicately put his hands on your waist and instinctively you put yours around his neck. “We’re at a concert, Y/N. We’re expected to dance. Friends dance.”

You swayed with him as soon as he started moving, unable to say no to him. “Fine.”

You tried your hardest to resist maintaining eye-contact with him for fear of revealing how you really felt about him. 

He danced with you so tenderly that it hardly seemed like dancing. But you loved this for what it was. You could do this. You could be his friend.

When his gentle hands came to rest on your lower back, you shuddered. His hands on you felt as fantastic as last time.

“Are you cold?”

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking,” he argued before offering you his suit jacket. You really weren't cold. You were just overwhelmed to be sharing such an intimate moment with him.

His cologne still dazed you in the greatest way. You decided not to overthink any of it. Not right now. “Thank you.”

He smiled at you, his hands coming up to squeeze your shoulders softly. “I’m a good friend, you know.”

Yes, but I'm always going to want more than that. Even if I shouldn't.

You looked around and saw that the venue offered alcohol. You debated drinking. It seemed like the lesser of two evils right now.

“Since you’re driving, do you mind if I indulge a little?” you asked, pointing towards the barman.

“You’re more than welcome to. I'm your chauffeur for tonight, milady.”

In hindsight, drinking was a mistake because tequila had never been your friend. It always hit you all at once and it was too late for your sorry ass by the time Hotch dragged you up to your apartment. You slumped against him way more than necessary, hoping to indulge in feeling him pressed up against you any way you could.

Of course, as soon as he set you down on your couch, you remembered why you didn’t drink tequila. You hurried towards your bathroom, emptying your body of food and tequila with violent retches. You would be embarrassed but your head was still spinning. Before you knew it, you felt strong hands caressing your back gently, trying to move your hair out of the way.

When you felt like you were empty, you sat next to the toilet on the cold ground of your bathroom floor and it helped to prevent your nausea from overwhelming you. You realized that Hotch had sat next to you in your least glorious hour and he looked beyond concerned as he rubbed your back in circling motions.

“I’m fine. You can go. I just had a bit too much.”

“I’m perfectly happy here, Y/N.”

Of course he would stick around if you were sick. He was that kind of man. He looked way too good again and for once, you decided you would ask him an unprofessional question in person. “What happened to that date by the way?”

“I didn’t want to go.”

“Not into dating much then?” you joked.

He shook his head and he gave you a small smile. “My heart’s just not in it at the moment.”

“Have you been with anyone since your wife-”

He interrupted you as soon as you mentioned his wife. “No. I’m not particularly fun to be around and I haven’t really- I’m very picky.”

“Well, I don’t know you that much yet, but you seem fun to be around.”

He smoothed a stray hair away from your face and you knew you looked disgusting but he didn't seem to mind.

“I think you’re biased, Y/N.”

“Am I?” you mocked, knowing full well he was right.

“We both know you are.”

“I still don’t say anything I don’t mean,” you clarified.

“So in my office when we- you meant it. You do have daddy issues?” he joked, and you loved how the conversation had turned less serious in a matter of seconds.

“In this day and age, who doesn’t?” You chuckled dryly. It wasn’t that you had daddy issues as much as you were just totally fucked up. “Would you believe it if I said I actually had a healthy relationship with my dad?”

He nodded. “I don’t think your dad is the one who hurt you.” He paused and continued, “But your ex-boyfriend looked older than you.”

How he knew your dad wasn’t responsible for messing you up escaped you, but you wouldn’t explain that he was right, at least not now. Maybe later. Once your friendship was established and not on so shaky ground.

“Looked me up, didn’t you?” You waited and when he shrugged, partly admitting it, you continued, “I should take that picture down but I look good in it.”

He smiled at you, his gaze soft. “You do.”

You looked away before you did anything stupid. “I like them older. Always have. But don’t worry, I don’t call anyone daddy,” you quipped.

He scoffed but you could tell he was amused. “I feel like I’m crossing an imaginary line every time I talk to you.”

“Maybe. But like you said... Imaginary.”

“There’s nothing wrong with following the rules, Y/N. You asked me to respect your boundaries if I recall correctly.”

You knew it was a bad idea to even think about it. Let alone voice it out loud. “I like to think you’re more adventurous than that when I imagine you naked next to me in my fantasies,” you confessed.

He didn't look uncomfortable, but he looked way more serious than a few seconds ago. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about your preferences.”

“Would you rather we talk about yours?” you teased.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why?” you whispered next to him.

He looked insanely good sitting next to you on the cold floor of your bathroom. He always looked insanely good.

“You know why,” he explained before continuing, “It’s like you said, we don’t know each other that well after all.”

“Well, we can change that.”

Hotch looked at you and for once, you didn’t see him hiding anything. You knew he wasn’t indifferent, but right now, he wasn’t hiding it.

“I know we can, but it doesn’t mean that we should. I’ve already proven a few times that I’m very weak when it comes to you. I can't walk away. I can't stop myself from wanting to be around you even if I know it would be best if I stayed away."

You shrugged, opting to offer him a middle ground. “It’d be a shame if you didn't want to know me more. You look like you can be a good friend.”

“Friend?” he asked, way too hopeful.

You didn’t intend to be mean to him at any point but you realized that you had been unintentionally mean by trying to protect yourself. He shouldn't doubt you wanted to be his friend regardless of the thing that seemed to simmer between you.

Give it to tequila to make you realize you had been a bit bitchy.

“I mean, I think you deserve that title if you want it. It would come with the implication that we get to know each another for real, that we share a few meals, and that I confide in you and you do the same.”

It wasn’t a good idea and you already knew it. He was weak and you knew for sure that you were weak. A friendship wasn’t going to end well. At some point, you would collide again. At some point, you would find yourself alone with him and you would give in. Eventually, you would risk it all again and perhaps it would end in you hurting, but you knew without a doubt that it would happen again because there was a single but very real truth that loomed over you both tonight. You and Hotch were inevitable. 

You wouldn’t be able to deal with the pain if he turned you down another time, but he was worth risking your heart breaking. He was worth agony. He was worth heartache. Especially if it meant having him in your life.

“I can live with that.”

“If we do this though, for my sake, I don’t want to hear about who you date,” you clarified.

“Ditto."

Like I’m going to date anyone if you’re in my life.

__________

Here's the song because it's beautiful and I love sharing music with people.

Taglist: @realdirectionx

#aaron hotchner x reader #winsteria reads

[winsteria]

AAA this is so good!! oh how I want aaron in my life so bad!! 😩

Girl, I have something for you

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IkK0y7D7uOc

skip to 0:50 for some hotchy hotch

Alright, I see how it is, anon. I am distracted. (THANK YOU FOR DISTRACTING ME!)

This man is just... I'm having thoughts.

Can't we just all agree he's fine?

You didn't ask but I was inspired so here we go!

MINORS DNI

Imagine waking up next to Hotch and he's holding you like that, smiling broadly after spending the night with you for the first time! He's completely smitten and he's still afraid he's just dreaming.

Just imagine his fingers dancing on every inch of your skin in the morning light because you didn't bother putting clothes on after, you know... 😏 But Aaron needs to touch you any way he can because you're so perfect and beautiful and he wants to make sure this happened and that it's real...

Imagine how he would react to raising goosebumps everywhere on your skin because while his hands are calloused, his fingertips are soft and smooth and you feel them ghosting over your skin as you wake.

And of course Hotch waits for you to wake up before he gets up because you're holding on to him even in your sleep, pinning him down with your love even when you're unconscious. He wouldn't move because he secretely loves it even if he will tell you he has an urgent need to pee when you finally wake up.

But then you wake up and he kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger there because he's a softie and he knows you love it!

So you have to straddle his lap as soon as you rub your eyes, trying to shake away your sleepiness.

"What are you doing, sweetheart?" he asks as he sees your tired eyes.

You lean down to kiss him and he doesn't care about morning breath. He will never care about that.

"Need you again, Aaron."

You try to roll your hips on top of him as you feel him stir underneath you. He's half hard already because of his morning wood but now he's about to lose all his brain function because his blood is rushing south.

You yawn into a kiss and he chuckles against your lips because it's the most adorable thing ever. You love him in your sleep and you love him when you wake up and Aaron isn't used to someone being so warm and cuddly.

"You're so cute when you're all sleepy," he says, kissing you gently, caressing your face and your back as you move on top of him.

You get all serious and you pout, and Aaron loves that face, too.

But you're turned on because you dreamed about him touching you and while you're sleepy, you need more. "Aaron, touch me."

"Yes, dear."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron fluff #winsteria reads #winsteria favorites

[winsteria]

Aaron felt himself twitch in his pants and he had to think about his mother’s oatmeal recipe to stop his cock from hardening in the middle of his lecture. 

BYE NOT HIS MOTHER'S OATMEAL 😭😭

Things has gotten interesting!! I was trying so hard not to show any emotions as I read through this on public, but the end AAA they were so close in doing more of it 😩😩

I wonder what will Aaron do if he's going to make it up to her? 🤔 But anyways, I'm so excited to know what happens next between them!! <33

Part 3 - Longing

Warnings for this part: mention of personality disorders, mention of kinks, pining, masturbation, angst, terrible writing

The song we make Hotch listen to is My Heart is Buried in Venice by Ricky Montgomery. (A special nod to Greg, our favorite golden retriever man.)

Pairing: Professor!Hotchner x Fem!Student!Reader

MINORS DNI - 18+

Word count: 7.4k

Aaron was composed. Anyone would agree on that. He was collected, calm, calculating. He was also completely drawn to you in a way he hadn’t experienced in years. 

You wrote him a few emails during the week, always asking questions far more advanced than you needed to and he was smitten before he knew what to do about it. 

He had tried to make it a point to have a kind word for you whenever he could, mostly because you were always so kind to him. 

He thought about you as he was going over his notes for tomorrow’s lecture when he saw you knocking on his open office door. 

You were gorgeous and Aaron knew that, but looking at you in a summer dress made him question every single glance he shot in your direction, not knowing if it was considered staring when he couldn't tear his eyes away.

“Hi, Y/N. What can I do for you?” He took a chance and he looked at how the summer dress you were wearing fit you perfectly. 

He did his best to focus on your face because he really couldn’t entertain thoughts that revolved about lifting up your dress to see your skin and taste you.

“Hey, Hotch. I was wondering if we could talk about personality disorders.”

“Sure. Come on in, close the door,” he replied. 

He knew he shouldn’t ask you to close the door behind you, it made him want to use his couch or his desk unethically with you. But he was also professional enough to focus on your questions. 

He watched you take a seat in front of his desk, getting your notebook out and he wondered once again why you didn’t use a laptop, but he liked seeing you take notes like he used to when he was your age. It also reminded him that you were his student and that he shouldn't wonder if your age gap would bother you.

Aaron felt a bit overwhelmed when you smiled at him, but he knew by now that smiling back made you smile even wider and he couldn’t resist seeing you smile more.

“I wanted to know more about paranoid personality disorders. More precisely, you mentioned last week that this disorder was marked by pervasive and inflexible patterns. You also said it’s easy to recognize this disorder because the people affected by it are distrustful and suspicious. They often think government entities are malevolent.”

He tried to hide a smile. You were amazing and he was reminded of that every time you spoke. “That’s correct.”

“Would you agree that most fanatical or survivalist groups fall into that category?” you asked, and once again, he loved your inquisitive nature. You were curious, clever and you went above and beyond. You were eager to learn and he loved witnessing it.

“Always exercise caution when you label entire groups, but yes.”

You smirked at him and he felt a flutter in his chest. You had made him question if he had a heart condition recently, but he knew this wasn't a treatable condition. Having a crush on you pained him at times because he knew he couldn't do anything about it.

“Also… Nixon.” He laughed at that. He was always impressed by your wit, your intelligence and more recently, he had come to appreciate your sense of humor. You were right, too. Nixon was considered paranoid by many people. 

“Exactly, Y/N.”

He waited for you to write down a few things and he looked at you knowing full well that he shouldn’t look at you the way he did. 

“Have you ever interviewed them or participated in an interview with someone who had a paranoid personality disorder?”

Aaron nodded. “Yes.”

“What are their stressors when you interview them?” 

Aaron thought about the best way to interview paranoid types. He recalled observing a seasoned FBI agent interview one one time. “You need to create a stressing environment for these people. Walking behind them, grasping their shoulders, getting into their space.”

He watched you take notes and he waited to see if you had other questions. He loved watching you write up what he said. You always listened carefully, you always wrote what he said and one day, you’d be a fine professor as well. When he heard you mention you wanted to teach and write and research, he felt hopeful knowing he could get to work with you in the future.

Perhaps by then, he could ask you out.

He discarded that thought because he had no right thinking he had you to look forward to in his future. You would never go for someone like him under the best conditions.

“As for the antisocial disorder, it would be marked by a pattern of disregard for, and the violation of, the rights of others. You mentioned psychopathy and antisocial personality disorder aren’t one and the same.”

He looked at you frown a little as you read your notes and he had to remind himself he wasn’t supposed to think you were cute when you frowned.

He focused on finishing your thought process for you. “This is where you would find sexual sadists or serial killers. They're usually the Ted Bundy types. Sane. But they don’t know what remorse is.”

“Do you reckon child molesters are suffering from this disorder?”

Aaron absolutely hated talking about child molesters, but he knew he had to sometimes and he understood why you were asking. 

“Yes,” he gritted out.

“Alright, Hotch. One last question and I won’t bug you until tomorrow.”

You smiled at him again and he wasn’t strong enough not to look at your lips this time. You had a beautiful smile and he wanted to tell you that much, but he couldn’t. It was a slippery slope if he started complimenting your physical attributes. He didn’t know how it was possible for someone like you to be single.

He had caved a few nights ago and he had looked you up on social media. He wasn’t really involved but he had Facebook like most people. It allowed him to keep in touch with a few people. He had typed in your name after a late email one night. You had sent him a smiley face and it had made him think about your breathtaking smile. He couldn’t deny how beautiful you were, he thought so ever since he first saw you, but watching your face light up as you smiled made him feel warm all over and he knew he was in trouble.

Finding out you weren’t dating anybody made him wonder more often than not what your type was. He saw a few pictures on your Facebook profile of you with an older man and as he looked at the comments under it that night, he gathered the man was clearly your ex. He saw you two weren’t even friends anymore, at least on Facebook. Aaron wondered if it ended badly for you not to be on speaking terms with someone. You were kind and you didn't look like the kind of person who held grudges.

He felt hope knowing your ex had been older than you, though. He shouldn’t have hope, he knew that, but he did. He wondered about asking to be your friend on Facebook, but he knew he couldn’t. Instead, he settled for saving a picture of you smiling in his phone. No one would ever know and he could look at you smiling when his memory of you wasn’t enough.

“Y/N, I like answering your questions. You could stay here until I have to go home and I wouldn’t mind.” He genuinely meant it and that was why he couldn’t be trusted to be alone with you in his office. He'd spend the night here with you if he could and it wasn't the kind of thing he should think about once again.

“You don’t want to be around me when I’m hungry and I’m starting to feel hungry,” you joked, but he had a feeling you weren’t kidding. You were beaming at him again and Aaron wasn’t good at handling this. He felt a bit flustered whenever you smiled, but when you beamed like that, he had a hard time not wanting to do the same. 

He was hungry as well as it neared lunch time and he would admit to be losing his mind as he watched you smile at him so effortlessly. You were clearly the kind of person who smiled a lot and it made him wonder how he would go an entire semester watching you light up like this without wanting to ask you out. 

“I need to eat as well. Why don’t we order some food?” he suggested, hoping you would agree to spend more time with him. He shouldn't ask. He shouldn't want more time.

“Here?”

Aaron considered his options. Takeout in his office seemed like the most ethical of the unethical options. But of course, he didn’t care all that much if he got to spend more time in your presence.

“We can go out, too. Whichever you prefer.”

You raised your eyebrows and you smirked, leaving Aaron no choice but to smile at you. 

“Should we be eating together, Hotch?” 

No. We really shouldn’t. But I don’t care.

“Is it worse than coffee?” he asked, unashamedly admiring your natural beauty once more. He really hoped you wouldn’t read too much into him actively looking at you.

He was waiting for you to reject his offer. It was bold to ask you to eat together but he didn’t know how to not want more time with you. 

“I guess not.”

He hid his relief at you not rejecting him outright. “Then tell me if you want takeout or if you want to go out.”

“I live on the street right next to the Italian place that has the best carbonara ever. What do you say we grab some food and we finish this at my apartment?”

He knew he had to say no to going to your place alone with you. He knew. But you invited him over and he couldn’t say no. He wasn’t able to. 

“Sure.” It occurred to him this would be inappropriate if you were caught together though. “Do you have roommates?”

You shook your head. “No. It’ll be just you and me. Unless you’d be more comfortable here.”

“It’s fine. Let’s go to your place. Is it close or should we take my car?”

“We’re within walking distance.” You got up from your seat and you gathered your things, so he did the same. 

“Good. Lead the way.”

Aaron followed you to the Italian place you mentioned. He enjoyed walking outside with you. It was enough to clear his head a little. He needed to focus on not wondering what it meant that you invited him over. He needed to remember he was your professor and that he had been invited over to talk about personality disorders. He thought about every piece of information he could throw your way once he would find himself alone with you in your apartment.

Aaron followed you inside your apartment and he looked around, finding it to be exactly how he imagined it. Not that he should’ve imagined you or you in your apartment at any point in the past weeks. But he had.

He sat at the counter, on the stool where you told him to sit and he watched you move around your kitchen to offer him a plate and a fork. You put the food into two plates and you smiled at him again.

“I guess we shouldn’t open a bottle of wine. But I have some. If you- I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You looked a bit nervous and he loved seeing you affected by his presence in your apartment. He felt a bit better knowing he wasn’t the only one affected by this. 

“It’s fine, Y/N. Go ahead if you want to drink. You’re home after all.”

“Surely I will be crossing a line, right?” You didn’t seem all that nervous anymore and he wondered why he felt so at ease around you all of a sudden. 

Aaron knew you made people feel comfortable around you easily, he had noticed it firsthand early on. But he was still nervous around you because you took his breath away more often than not. Yet, right now, he felt absolutely calm. 

“I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be sitting in your apartment right now if you want to talk about crossing a line,” he admitted, although he wasn’t sure he should mention it. He didn’t want you to kick him out once you inevitably realized this wasn’t actually normal for professors and students to do.

You smirked at that and he knew you didn’t care about the imaginary line you were both toeing. “You could have said no.”

Aaron smiled, careful to remain seated exactly where he was as he watched you open the bottle of wine adeptly.

“I didn’t want to say no, Y/N.”

You offered him a glass of wine and it was a silent agreement not to mention the lines he was crossing by being here with you in the first place. Aaron took it and tasted the wine, finding it perfect to go with the carbonara. He loved wine. He always had. It was the first time he was having wine with a woman since Haley and he tried not to think too much about that.

Aaron ate and shared a few insightful comments on his knowledge of wine and once again, you listened to him in awe. Aaron loved how you listened like he was the best music you had ever heard.

When he felt your hand on his arm after you were both done eating, he felt the skin under his shirt set aflame. You didn’t usually touch him and he had a feeling you were the kind of person who was very tactile in general. He would never mind you touching him, but feeling your hand on him made him wonder if you had become comfortable enough around him to do this more often. Because if you had, he would need to be a better man than he really was to control himself. He was sure the wine had helped you be brave, though. He debated putting his hand on top of yours but he noticed you had only done it to get his attention.

“Do you like Ricky Montgomery?”

He shook his head, watching your face fall. “Sorry, I don’t know who that is.”

He silently promised himself he would find out who that was and make himself like him if it meant you were happy with him. 

You got up and grabbed your phone, smiling at him. “We need to change that.”

Aaron watched you tap on your phone. “We do?”

“Yes. Hang on. Ok, here we go.” You put your phone on the counter and music started playing around your apartment. 

Aaron listened closely, wanting nothing more than to make you happy by making an effort to like the music you were sharing with him. Aaron had always had a special relationship with music. To him, lyrics meant more than any melody. Music spoke to him and that was why he had learned guitar as a teenager. It had impressed Haley enough to get her to marry him, but what he really liked was being able to get lost in his favorite songs even if he wasn’t the greatest singer.

Aaron watched you enjoy the music and he actually enjoyed it, too. You had good taste. “He’s good.”

You beamed at him at that and he knew he would listen to that song again once he was home if it meant he got to see you beam at him like that in his head.

“He is.”

Aaron watched you as the song played and he was thankful when it ended and you stopped your phone from replaying it. He had enough common sense to know he shouldn’t be here in the first place, but watching you enjoy music, watching you mouth ‘so we can get lost you and me’ was more than he could take. He wanted to dance with you. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to find out all there was to know about you. He wanted and that was a problem. He was obsessed and he knew it wasn’t going to end well for him. 

“Should we get to your questions?” he asked, aware that he needed to distract himself with something else than the thought of finding out ways to touch you right now. 

“We should.”

Aaron heard your suggestive tone as you answered. He felt a shiver run up his spine and he knew instantly that he wasn’t crazy to wonder if he could touch you. He wasn’t the most experimented when it came to reading the signs, but he knew that a woman inviting him back to her place, with wine and music… It meant something. In the real world, if it had been you and him, he would have tried to kiss you by now. 

Aaron wasn’t above what he wanted right now. He could admit to himself what he wanted. But he knew it was wrong. He felt your gaze on him and you looked at him with such admiration that he knew he couldn’t risk it. If he leaned towards you, if he touched you, it could mean you wouldn’t look at him like that anymore and he couldn’t deal with that. He loved seeing you watch him. He loved knowing you admired him. He was a selfish man and he loved watching you watch him like that. He wouldn't risk it.

“Maybe I should go,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. He didn’t want to leave. In fact, it was the last thing he wanted and that was why he knew he had to. 

He saw disappointment on your features this time and he felt guilty for being responsible of your smile fading.

But then you nodded and instantly, you offered him another smile he clearly didn’t deserve.

“Okay.”

Aaron did quick work of gathering his stuff and he left your apartment without glancing back, knowing full well that if he saw you so much as pout, he’d turn around and do something incredibly damaging to his career. His dad surely would have had something condescending to say to him had he been alive. 

He was glad to be home with Jack that night and as he read a few puns to his son, he felt bad about leaving you there the way he did. He could have done a better job of explaining his sudden departure. You deserved better and he knew it had been the right decision to leave.

Aaron went over tomorrow’s material and he did his best to focus to forget about your hand on his arm. He realized that according to his syllabus, he had to talk about kinks tomorrow. It wasn’t going to be easy to address this in front of you. He was a professional by now but he knew what he wanted to do tonight and talking about kinks in class meant talking about sex and he couldn’t stomach the idea of hearing you ask questions about anything resembling sex tomorrow. 

One of the best ways to know that much about the human psyche and sexual deviances was to be able to relate to the people who exhibited signs of being troubled or pained by impulses. And Aaron knew impulses all too well. He knew why he left your apartment before his impulses took over him. 

He discovered as he showered that night that he thought about you way more than he should. He often let his thoughts wander but this time he was painfully hard in the shower and he couldn’t justify touching himself. He would think about you and that couldn’t happen. 

He dried himself off after his shower, wishing his erection would just go away. But it became clear that it wasn’t going away and he reached for his phone to find the song you had made him listen to earlier, hoping it would distract him enough to lose his erection.

Of course, that didn’t work. 

He was hurting by the time he decided that fantasy never hurt anyone. You would never know anyway. He reached for his phone and he found the picture of you he had saved. He felt himself twitch in his boxers and he knew that was why he shouldn’t touch himself. 

He shut off his phone and he let his hand drift inside his boxers before he lost sensation in his entire dick for being so hard for so long. He moved his hand lazily, trying to get back into this. He had never been one to jerk off all that much when he was with Haley and since she passed away, he was just not that interested in it. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to come and release the pressure he felt if he tried to just jerk off for the sake of it. He was sure of what he needed to come, but Aaron felt dirty for even thinking about doing it.

He was too turned on to remove his hand now. He threw caution to the wind and he thought about you, about your smile and he thought about your hand on his arm earlier. He thought about your dress and how it hugged you perfectly. He thought about you looking at him in awe and he gained a nice rhythm. He imagined your hands on him. He imagined your lips on his. He thought about kissing you all over and having you do the same to him. He could still hear your voice, your suggestive tone from earlier and he wondered if you would be under him or on top of him by now had he stayed. 

What did it was when he thought about how your face would contort in pleasure had he buried himself inside you and he came all over his hand without warning.

He felt guilty, dirty and absolutely horrible for doing it but it was that or calling Jessica to come watch Jack before going back to your place in the middle of the night. He knew he needed to be reasonable and he had to be better. You had almost made a move earlier, he knew that much. He felt stupid for not letting you and he felt stupid for leaving, but he also knew he couldn’t risk it. He knew he had to be strong and not let you risk it. 

Of course, indulging in a fantasy where you were his once meant he wanted to do it again and he had to do it again the next morning before he headed to class. He couldn’t exactly get hard in class as the class discussed sex, especially if you discussed sex. He dreamed about fucking you into his mattress and it made him wonder if you dreamed about him. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take long this morning because the prospect of seeing you again made him eager to finish himself off. Thinking about your mouth on him was enough to make his vision black out as he fucked his fist and he felt even more horrible as a person than usual when he made his way to wake Jack 30 minutes later. 

He wasn’t a teenager anymore, he had no right to jerk off this much thinking of someone he barely knew and yet, he had to before he forgot why it couldn’t happen. 

He found you mesmerizing, clever, beautiful, funny, and you were just exactly his type. And if it weren’t for the age difference and him being your professor, he would have asked you out already. He would have tried to kiss you, he would have tried to get you naked even. There was something there, he knew it. Aaron felt that pull, that attraction and he was almost certain it wasn't one-sided, but he knew he couldn't do that to you.

As Aaron looked at you taking notes on paper again today, he wondered if you had been sent to torture him. You looked beautiful once again, another beautiful summer dress that was perfect for you and your focus on him was making him doubt his cognitive functions. You didn’t seem troubled at all. You didn’t look mad or displeased. But last night, you hadn’t emailed him with questions for the first time in a while and Aaron wondered if you would ever reach out again. 

He addressed the classroom, “Now, as far as kinks are concerned, I would argue that they aren’t necessarily harmful. Of course, some kinks are just wrong and you should make a list of what you consider wrong for next week. We’ll see then how subjectivity plays a role into these preferences. You will need to defend your reasoning behind each of those with the correct terminology along with the proper citations.”

Of course, you had questions now. “Professor Hotchner, what do you mean some of them are just wrong? Aren’t they all subjective in nature? To each their own. I mean, kinks aren’t all bad. Some of them are healthy. Of course, that is, if you have a consenting partner. If you meant in the case of rape, I would agree that making your partner partake in a kink they do not agree with is just wrong.”

Ha hated that you decided to go back to this level of formality. He hated the fact that you looked too serious and focused. 

“Let’s forget about rape for now. Do you care to develop your theory on how kinks can be healthy?” he asked, his focus solely on you. He was curious if you would actually talk about kinks freely.

You nodded. “Sure, Professor. Let’s say you enjoy the finer things in life and you have a healthy relationship with another consenting adult, experimenting is healthy. I mean, you could certainly ask your partner is he has any dealbreakers, but talking about your sexuality with your partner and sharing your expectations is a healthy practice.”

Aaron felt himself twitch in his pants and he had to think about his mother’s oatmeal recipe to stop his cock from hardening in the middle of his lecture. 

“And exactly what kinks would be acceptable under the parameter that paraphilic behaviors sometimes derive from said kinks?”

You smiled and Aaron felt relieved to see you smile at him again. 

“Well, I know a person or two who like to be tied up. Like we said last time, bondage isn’t considered paraphilic anymore. I think auto-erotic breathplays are still part of the manual though, at least I think I read that. But kinks… well some of them shouldn’t be considered a problem. As long as sex is done with respect and consent, who cares if you need a little extra sometimes. At least, that’s the way I see it.”

Aaron had to frown as he conceded it. He wondered if you were intentionally letting him know you had an adventurous side. 

He felt a warmth in his lower stomach that shouldn’t be there during class and he looked around the classroom and at his watch, deciding to end the class five minutes early today. He couldn’t possibly discuss sex with you like this, especially not in front of other people. 

You walked towards him as he gathered his material and he focused his gaze on you. He was wondering if you would still come up to him after class. He was relieved to see you approach him. 

“Were you speaking from experience, Y/N?” 

He didn’t know why he was asking. He really shouldn’t be asking. He had no right to know. He had no right to ask.

“I have a healthy amount of ‘deviations’, as you call them. Everyone does. But to be fair, I just call that enjoying sex and intimacy with a trusting partner,” you explained. Aaron did not miss the flush creeping up your neck.

“Should I be concerned about your well-being?” he teased.

Aaron had no choice but to defuse the tension because he had to relearn how to breathe as the arousal overwhelmed him. Hearing you say you enjoyed sex definitely wasn't helping his case. He had no right to think about you having sex. He had no right picturing you having sex with him. 

You approached him a bit more, a flirtatious smile on your lips. “Oh, no, Professor Hotchner. I am just saying, you shouldn’t shame people for having a kinky side.”

He cleared his throat and he nodded. “Perhaps you’re right. On that wonderful note, class is dismissed.”

Aaron had to insist class was over before he invited you for a drink. He knew it was wrong but he also knew that he wanted to have you and he was not strong enough to be around you alone for too long. He had proof of that since last night. 

“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot.”

Aaron wondered if you were referring to today or last night. Either way, you deserved to know he wasn’t uncomfortable, just flustered. “I wasn’t- No, you didn’t, Y/N,” he paused and took in the sight of you in front of him. “We just need to leave the room before the other professor gets here.”

“Can I ask you a question, Professor Hotchner?”

Aaron debated letting you ask him another question when he was so flustered but he nodded anyway, willing to spend more time with you even if it meant getting himself off in his office before meeting his colleagues for a tenure meeting. 

“Just walk with me, I have a meeting in 15 minutes.” He wondered if you would follow him into an enclosed space again. He wondered if you would ever consider asking him questions in private again after last night.

He was relieved to see you follow. He let you inside his office and he did his best not to breathe in the smell of your perfume. It was too intoxicating and he couldn't think about licking your neck to see where you had sprayed in onto your skin.

“Can I give you my paper written by hand? I don’t have a laptop. Doing it on my cellphone seems counterproductive.”

“I was wondering why you don’t use a laptop.”

“Angry ex-boyfriend decided I didn’t need it and I can’t afford a new one right now. I’m already working full-time but that goes towards my apartment off campus. As you know, I live alone so I don’t have a lot of leeway here. I couldn’t stand living on campus. The nightlife alone would have turned me into a real bitch. I need my sleep. Sorry, I’m rambling.” 

Aaron gave you a small smile, finding your rambling attractive beyond reason. “It’s fine. Sorry about your laptop. And the ex-boyfriend.”

“It’s fine.” You smiled again and this time, it wasn’t just because you wanted to be polite in class.

Aaron looked at you for a few seconds longer than he would look at anyone and he knew right away he was already fucked. Seeing you smile at him, watching your mouth as it moved as you rambled, it made him want to shut you up with a kiss and that was why he shouldn’t have jerked off to thoughts of you under him, on him and in any other position. He couldn’t control what he dreamed about, what he fantasized about, but he could control his hand and his thoughts. 

“Yes, you can write your paper on paper and give it to me directly.” He wanted you to hand it to him directly and he knew he shouldn’t ask the following question, “Also, would you care to discuss your theories about my books with me? Perhaps I could use your help writing a new paper. The department has been nagging me to write more.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise and Aaron figured you would know it was his way of letting you know nothing had to change between you two regardless of last night's events. 

“Me? Your 26 year-old grad student who knows nothing about life?”

Aaron had a feeling you knew more about life than a lot of people his age, actually. 

“You seem to know an awful lot about sex. Sex is one of the primary drives for criminal behavior in the adult male, but you know that,” he clarified, trying to explain why he wanted your help rationally. He had a hard time finding a good reason, one that made sense beyond his own selfish needs. 

What he wanted was more time alone with you, but he also knew it was a bad idea if he ever had one. There was no way he would be strong enough to refrain from fantasizing about you. 

You smirked, licking your lips in the process and Aaron felt himself stir in his pants. He thought about his mother’s oatmeal again. 

“Most men are driven by sex, Professor Hotchner. That’s why.”

“Like I said, care to help me with a paper? Getting published with me at your age could do a lot for you. It would be an automatic acceptance into a few Ph.D. programs. I’d put in a good word for you, too.”

Aaron wondered if he was actually trying to convince you to help because he wanted you to benefit from his name or if he had other selfish reasons. He knew it was a bit of both, but the latter seemed reason enough to convince himself not to ever touch you.

“If you genuinely want my help and my insight, I’d be a fool to say no,” you replied, giving him your best smile. 

“Should I send you an email so we can schedule a time to meet?” 

“Can you meet me here later today? Around 3?”

You nodded and Aaron watched you turn around to leave. 

“See you later, Y/N.”

Aaron waited for you to exit his office and he found himself doing his best to relax before his meeting. He wouldn’t jerk off. He had to get a hold of himself. He waited until he absolutely had to leave his office for this tenure meeting and he was grateful to be able to focus during the meeting because the prospect of seeing you again in the afternoon made him wonder how he could be stupid enough to want to spend more time with you when he was absolutely smitten with you. He was under your spell and he knew there was no way it would end well for either of you.

Nevertheless, Aaron was kind and he walked across campus to go towards the coffee shop. He wanted to bring you coffee before you met but then he saw you there, sitting alone, totally engrossed in his book. 

He decided to put a hand on your bare shoulder as he neared you, and feeling your soft skin definitely wouldn’t help him not fuel his fantasies. 

You flinched, gasped and dropped your latte, in a matter of seconds. Aaron felt absolutely horrible for surprising you. Everyone around the coffee shop looked at you and the shattered mug on the floor.

Aaron crouched to help you pick it up and he helped you clean with napkins, feeling terrible for scaring you.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Aaron kept his voice soft because he knew that if you flinched like that, someone hadn’t been kind before him. 

He saw you trying to breathe in and out and he wanted nothing more than to reach for you to comfort you. He helped you up, trying to decide what to do. 

“Sorry.”

Aaron hated how small it sounded and he hated you felt the need to apologize. He brought you against his chest, hugging you briefly. He hoped you knew he would never lay a hand on you like this.

“I saw you when I walked by and thought we could start working here. It’s nearing half past 2,” he explained, keeping his gaze soft as he looked at you.

“I’m so sorry,” you replied again. 

“Don’t be sorry. Do you want to go to my office?” he asked, trying to keep his tone as soft as he could. He wished he didn’t know why you recoiled from his hand on your shoulder, but he knew those reactions all too well. He knew that to you, this was fight-or-flight right now.

“Yes,” you replied, and Aaron picked up your things, carrying them for you.

He brought you to his office again, this time making you sit on the couch. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.

You nodded. “Sorry about that.”

“I’m not going to ask but I’m sorry I touched you.”

“It’s not- You don’t scare me. I just- Let’s just say that some people weren’t always nice to me when they approached me from behind.”

“Would you rather I announce myself next time?”

“If you could say you’re there before you touch my shoulder, yes.”

Aaron decidedly didn’t want to address the fact that you seemed okay with him touching your shoulder. He decided to change the subject before he asked about touching you somewhere else. 

“Have you read all of my books?” 

You nodded and he knew for sure you had read them more than once, too. “Professor Hotchner, why do you think I’m taking your introductory class?”

“Okay, stop with this Professor Hotchner thing. I told you to call me Hotch.”

“Fine. Hotch. Why do you think I’m taking your class?”

He did his best not to inch closer to you a little on the couch, unable to contain what he felt right now. It escaped him how you knew he wasn’t indifferent, but you clearly knew. It was clear on your face. Being this close to you was torture. He wanted you. He wanted to throw away his career to know what it felt like to have you. 

He focused on answering your question instead of looking at your lips.

He knew that you were a psych major. That you had a bachelor’s in criminal justice. He looked you up on Facebook enough to know a few things. You weren’t overly involved in student activities, but there were a few photos of you with diplomas. In none of the pictures there seemed to be parents and he wondered what happened there, but he chose not to ask. He still wondered about your ex. He had tried not to notice the man in the picture with you was clearly more his age than yours because he couldn’t hope. It wasn’t right to hope. 

“Most psych majors want to understand themselves, Y/N. Then there are a few who genuinely want to help troubled people. But only fucked up people know how to help fucked up people.” It was the best explanation he could give you. To be fair, he knew all too well that fucked up people helped fucked up people more than those who came from nice and untroubled backgrounds.

He knew that in that moment, he had revealed he knew about your background but you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you were smiling the whole time he talked and he stopped wondering how you knew he wasn’t indifferent. 

“Well, it’s the same when it comes to sex, Hotch. People want to understand where they come from and sometimes the best answers are within ourselves.”

He wasn’t following anymore. He frowned a little, noticing how you moved closer to him. 

“What do you mean?”

You put a hand on his leg and he tried to breathe through it because he was going to get hard if you left your hand there too long. 

“What you find attractive, what you find appealing… It’s only a reflection of your own problems. Let’s say I like older men, people will say I have daddy issues.”

He wondered if there was any truth to it. “And do you?”

You shook your head, but your hand remained on him and he felt too hot all of a sudden.

“This isn’t about me, Hotch.”

“You don’t seem to be the lying type, though.”

You smirked, inching closer again. “Let’s just say I am comfortable with sex and my preferences because I had great mentors.”

Aaron focused on his breathing because the hand you kept on his leg made him feel way more aroused than he should.

“Older mentors?” he asked, his voice hoarse. You seemed to know you were having that effect on him by now because you moved infinitely closer again and your hand remained steady on him. Aaron was damned. He wanted your hands on him more than he cared about his job. 

“I like them old enough to know I deserve more than one orgasm if I get naked in front of them.”

Aaron thought about getting you to orgasm more than once because of him and he was tenting his slacks as soon as he thought about getting you off. He prayed you wouldn’t notice, but he knew there was a fair chance you would. 

Aaron still decided to follow your train of thought. “That’s a given.”

“Well, you would know.”

“Sorry?”

You squeezed his thigh and Aaron was painfully hard by now. More than he ever thought possible. 

“Oh come on, Hotch. Don’t give me the shy or prude act. You know your way around a woman’s body. It shows.”

He raised his eyebrows and he smirked as he watched the nice color on your cheeks and neck. Your breathing was fast and he wasn’t imagining it. You were certainly feeling something, too.

“It shows?”

You nodded with enthusiasm. “Of course it does.”

Aaron wondered if you had imagined him getting you off. Clearly, you had thought about him if you assumed he was able to pleasure a woman. 

He swallowed and he tried to calm down. “And how does it show?”

“Men like you, they know a woman deserves more than one orgasm. But what gives you away is your mouth. You have a beautiful mouth, so of course you know how to use it. Your fingers, too. You know, you tap your fingers together when you’re nervous, but it shows that you are in full control of your digits at all times because you notice when you do it. It's a subtle thing, but I've seen you notice it. And if the guitar behind you is any indication, you know how to strum. My guess is that those skills are… transferable.”

Aaron was too hard and too turned on to know right from wrong. Your hand on his leg remained and Aaron put his hand on yours. You move it away and you lay your hand on his clothed cock and Aaron tried to think. You didn’t move it. You just left it there. But there was still nothing better than feeling your hand on him. He tried not to move against your hand. He tried not to squirm at how painfully delicious this felt.

“Y/N, if you touch me, there’s no going back.”

You got on top of him swiftly and his hands landed on your hips instantly. Your dress was lifted just enough for him to see your lace panties and he felt himself twitch again. He tried to be a gentleman and not rut against you.

“What will it take for you to touch me?” 

He knew he needed to be sure. He needed you to be sure. He needed to ask. He needed to talk. “The way I see it, we have a few options here.”

“We do?”

“We wait until I’m not your professor anymore.” Aaron hoped you wouldn’t consider this option, especially since feeling you on top of him was doing wonders for him.

You leaned down towards him, your lips hovered just above his. “Or?”

Aaron felt you move against his clothed dick and he grit his teeth, doing his best not to move under you. “We do this once and we don’t speak about it ever again.”

Your breath was on his lips and he wanted nothing more than to close the distance. He moved just enough to slot his dick against your core and he had to close his eyes to commit how this felt to memory.

“Or?”

Aaron felt himself twitch again as you moved on him, rolling your hips painfully slowly. You were clearly trying to release some pressure on him, too. 

He didn’t trust his voice not to betray how much he wanted this, so he whispered, “Maybe a mix of both.”

You closed the distance and once your lips were on his, Aaron forgot everything he promised himself not to do. He kissed you back hungrily. He thrusted against you and when you moaned in his mouth, he had to tearing your clothes. 

“Hmm… I’d much rather sneak around until you’re not my professor anymore. Then after that, up to you.”

Aaron grabbed your face, looking into your eyes. “What do you want?”

“If I get to have you, I won’t be satisfied with just the one time.”

He had to be sure. He had to ask. “Do you actually want me?”

“In any way you’ll have me, yes.”

“So this isn’t just for sex? It’s not a bet? Not a fling? Not an itch you need me to scratch?”

“Aaron, no. I want you. I have ever since we shook hands.”

Aaron wondered if he had ever liked his first name before now. Hearing you say it definitely spurred him on and he kissed you again, unable to refrain from doing it anymore. 

You moaned in his mouth again and Aaron knew he had to get you out of that dress. He removed it gently, looking at you in just your underwear on top of him. You looked him in the eye and he knew you genuinely wanted him. It was obvious. He could see it in your eyes.

He watched you remove your bra and he let you take his hands to put them on your boobs. 

He leaned forward, putting a nipple into his mouth and when your hand found its way into his hair as he nibbled, sucked and licked your nipple, he groaned against your skin, making you shiver on top of him. It felt absolutely wonderful to know he made you feel like this.

Aaron moved to look at you again, taking in the sight of you wanting him. He tried to convince himself he could ever live without this but he knew that having you would change him.

“You are beautiful,” he said, a bit breathless.

You smiled and for once, Aaron was proud that you didn't say anything in return. You leaned down to capture his lips again and Aaron let his hands roam over your back, caressing your bare skin and loving how smooth it felt. 

A loud knock on his door shook him to his core. He looked at you worriedly, realizing you were almost naked on top of him in his office.

You looked stunned but you moved away from him, gathering your dress and getting behind the door. 

“Yes?” he said, mad at anyone who would dare disturb him right now. 

“Sorry, Hotch. It’s me. Just wanted to know if you were still going on that blind date I set up for you tonight,” David asked, his voice on the other side of the door. 

Aaron was painfully hard for you and he looked at you putting on your dress. Either he agreed to make him go away quickly and that way, he could continue what he was doing. If he said no, though, David would question him about what happened that made him change his mind and he couldn't admit he wanted his student.

Aaron realized that it was best if he didn’t continue what he was doing though. He felt sick to have allowed this to happen. This was a mistake. He wasn’t good enough for you. He would ruin you. He would destroy your reputation, and he had been too selfish and too smitten to keep his distance.

He looked at you, knowing full well he was about to hurt you. But hurting you now seemed better than ruining you altogether. 

“Yes, Dave. I’ll be there. You can let her know.”

Aaron saw your face drop. He saw tears well up in your lovely eyes and he was about to reach for you and apologize on the spot when you glared at him with the coldest look he had ever seen, making him stop in his tracks. 

“It’s fine. I should have asked you what you wanted instead of assuming we wanted the same thing. You take care, sir.”

Aaron watched you leave his office and he realized that he hated himself way more than you could ever hate him now.

#aaron hotchner x reader #professor!hotch x student!reader #winsteria reads

[winsteria]

I AM LOVING THIS AAA!! I can feel their pining for each other already. There really is something about Professor x student!reader that I really love, and I am lovingg professor!hotch 🤭

I'm so excited for the next part!! 🤎

Part 2 - Sparks

Warnings for this part: discussion of criminal psychology terminology, brief mention of BTK, implied bullying, fluff, terrible writing

Pairing: Professor!Hotchner x Fem!Student!Reader

MINORS DNI — 18+

Word count: 3.5k

You had only been back to university three weeks when you realized that you had a crush on your very unattainable professor. Professor Hotchner was not only the brightest man you had ever met, he was also the most natural public speaker you had ever seen. You were completely under his spell as he spoke without hesitation, without pausing to read up on his notes. He was wasted potential teaching you and your peers, but you wouldn’t tell him that because he was too enjoyable to watch. It was even more impressive to watch him teach his class effortlessly, like he belonged there. He was made for teaching, you didn’t doubt it. While you had read his books, nothing could have prepared you for this, for seeing him impress you in real time. 

He was definitely nice to look at and his voice made it easy to concentrate on the material because there was nothing you’d rather listen to. 

You had kept your promise so far. You always asked your questions and Professor Hotchner always answered them. You heard a few snide remarks here and there from time to time, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You found it wonderful to be able to progress like you were and you would even admit to enjoying a few emails here and there with your favorite professor. You sometimes had questions and he always answered them, even when it was after hours. It never took him long to reply and you were grateful that he was so considerate about your pestering him with questions.

Today, he looked particularly delicious as he removed his suit jacket and you had a hard time looking away when he rolled up his sleeves. He was effortlessly handsome, you just knew that. But there was something about watching him today that made you feel warm inside. Of course, you had to develop a crush on the author you admired for years, on the man who also happened to be your professor until December. It was bound to be a long semester but you would do your best to hide your attraction to him. 

When you raised your gaze after jotting down a few notes in class, you found Professor Hotchner’s gaze on you already. It felt electrifying to find him already looking, but you dismissed it because you had a question.

“Sorry to interrupt, I was just wondering if you could revisit M.O. and signature.”

You heard a few girls laugh at you behind you, but contrary to them, you were past the age of taking part in their bitchy games. 

Professor Hotchner nodded and went back a few slides. “No problem, Y/N.”

You felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned to look at Chief Bitch. At least, that was what you called her in your head. “He already knows your name but he points to the others when he wants them to talk. How is it being the teacher’s pet? Suck his dick much?”

You glared at her, angry with the accusation. “If you cared enough to listen and ask questions, maybe he’d care to learn yours, too.”

“Oh, come on. We all know you’re that invested because you need your academic scholarship to be here. Must suck being too poor to get an education,” Chief Bitch said, getting a laugh out of some other girls around her.

“It must really suck being too dumb to follow an entry-level criminal psychology course. Of course, you would know since you find it necessary to belittle your peers,” you bit back. 

You knew that if Professor Hotchner was talking about what you asked, you were missing it because of Chief Bitch. It made you angry enough to insult Chief Bitch when you usually chose kindness in the face of cruelty.

“What seems to be the problem here?” Professor Hotchner’s voice seemed closer than usual and you turned to find him standing next to you. 

You found his concerned gaze on you and you tried really hard not to care about Chief Bitch whispering behind you. You couldn’t make out what she was saying, but you knew for a fact that having Professor Hotchner come to your rescue would only make her talk some more.

“I was just saying that you haven’t learned our names, yet you know Y/N’s,” Chief Bitch replied. 

Professor Hotchner frowned at her. “If you want me to learn your name, you should learn to listen when you come here. I’m sure social status is very important for a young lady like you but I don’t care much for people who try to undermine others for perceived self-gain. You bully another one of my students again and you won’t get to finish this semester without a very long disciplinary hearing. Am I clear?”

If his voice could freeze hell over, it would in this moment. His tone would have intimidated you if you had been on the receiving end, you knew that without a doubt. You didn’t need anyone to rescue you, you had learned long ago that letting the bullies talk without interacting with them reduced the overall length of the bullying. 

Chief Bitch nodded but she looked insulted, and Professor Hotchner went back to his material like nothing had happened.

“So, M.O. and signature. Modus Operandi has three goals for serial offenders. What are they?”

You debated answering, but you did say you would interact in class, so you did. You knew the answer to that already. “Protecting their identity, ensuring their success and facilitating their escape.”

Professor Hotchner gave you a small smile. “Good. Please note that when it comes to sexual crimes, the offender’s M.O. will only be valid for three to four months. It will change along with their preferences.”

“What about signature?” one of the students in the back asked.

“Their signature won’t change much,” Professor Hotchner replied.

Fortunately, the lecture ended on that and you gathered your notebook and pens, putting everything in your bag. 

You were about to leave the classroom when you heard Professor Hotchner’s voice calling you back inside.

You walked back towards him, unsure what this was about. You weren’t really in the mood to address Chief Bitch’s comments yet. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

You nodded, not meeting his gaze. “I am. Thank you for intervening, but I had it handled.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to take it, you know. I know they whisper things. I may not hear them but I see them.”

You shrugged, used to it by now. You didn’t know why people always decided to do this to you, especially other women, but you were able to tolerate it now. “I can take it.”

“It doesn’t mean you should.”

At that, you looked up. He looked concerned, kind, and entirely too attractive for you to focus. 

“Professor Hotchner, respectfully, I have heard it all before. She wasn’t entirely wrong either. I am here on a scholarship and if my grades aren’t perfect, I will not get to be here next semester.”

You knew you shouldn’t have said all of it because you hated pity way more than you hated Chief Bitch. 

“I’m not going to learn her name out of spite,” he added, and at that you laughed. It sounded petty and childish but it was enough to make you forget all about the incident when you met Professor Hotchner’s soft gaze.

“Thank you,” you replied with a smile, trying your best not to focus on how good he looked. 

“I got your email on trophies vs souvenirs last night but it was late and I didn’t want to wake you by answering your questions. Do you want me to go over them right now?”

You wondered why he was offering to answer your questions orally if he could just reply to your email but you wouldn’t say no to getting a few answers. “Well, if you have some time.”

“Do you like coffee?”

You scoffed because of the absurdity of the question itself. “Professor Hotchner, I am a grad student juggling a full-time job, research and school.”

He gave you a small smile and he finished gathering his things. “I guess I should have known. Would you mind very much calling me Hotch? Professor Hotchner was my father.”

You didn’t know what about you made him ask you to lose a bit of formality, but you didn’t mind. “I can do that.”

You followed him to the psychology building and you realized a bit late that he was bringing you to his office. You wondered why he asked you about coffee if he was going to bring you to his office, but you knew better than to question his intention. 

“I have to grab my wallet and my laptop, it won’t take long,” he clarified. 

He could have just told you where to meet him but somehow, you didn’t mind he had brought you along to pick up his things. You followed him inside his office and you were overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne. You had smelled it a few times, but nothing had prepared you for a room that smelled like him. 

It was already difficult to focus whenever he looked at you, whenever he was close, and here you were, in his office, alone with him. You saw a guitar next to the small leather couch, a turntable in the corner and hundreds of books everywhere in the room. However, your eyes landed on a framed picture on his desk and you saw him with a little boy, grinning from ear to ear. 

You’d do pretty much anything to see him smile like that at least once. 

“Is that your son?” you asked, aware that you were intruding his privacy by asking but he brought you here so you decided it was fair.

Professor Hotchner looked at where you were looking. “Yes.”

You smiled, deciding to compliment the picture as a whole because he wouldn’t know it’s not just his son you’re talking about. “Cute.”

“He is.”

You wondered why the mother wasn’t in the picture, but you figured that asking would be crossing a line. 

“Ready?” he asked after picking up his things and you nodded, way more nervous than you ought to be for coffee with your professor. 

It wasn’t the first time you would have coffee with one of your professors, it wasn’t the first time one of your professors offered to answer your questions like this, but it was the first time you found your professor absolutely gorgeous. 

He led you to a coffee shop on campus and you thanked him a few times for the coffee he refused to let you pay for. 

You sipped on it as you waited for him to read and answer your questions. 

“Trophies are a sign of victory, they’re often jewels, clothing, photos, etc. Most intelligent offenders give these away to a significant other after some time. Souvenirs are kept for a long time and while they can be the same items, an offender wouldn’t give them away because it’s too satisfying to revisit them.”

“So BTK kept trophies, not souvenirs,” you clarified. 

He nodded, sipping on his coffee. “Exactly.”

“You know, you have a way of explaining things that makes the material easy to understand.”

Professor Hotchner gave you a tight-lipped smile and you wondered if you could make him smile more fully before you parted ways. “It’s kind of my job.”

You shook your head, remembering other professors you had met along the way. “No. You could make things difficult, you could just not bother. It means a lot that you take the time to explain complicated notions. Plus, hearing you speak is definitely nice compared to reading your words without knowing what your voice sounds like. Now I can read your books with your voice in mind.”

“Thank you for saying that. You shouldn’t keep complimenting me, though,” he replied, his gaze soft. You questioned your motives when complimenting him as he said it, but you meant it and you knew he wasn’t saying this because you were crossing a line. He just didn’t seem used to compliments. 

“I told you I could be your personal cheerleader,” you joked, trying to make him laugh. You really wanted to hear him laugh. You wanted to see him smile fully. You wanted him to enjoy your company way more than you cared to admit.

He smiled a little and he looked down at the cup of coffee in his hands. “I don’t know why you make it a point to say kind things to me every time we talk. You do it even when you email me.”

It baffled you to hear him say that. You didn’t know why he didn’t hear kind things all the time. 

“Kindness is an underrated superpower nowadays. And everyone deserves to hear at least one kind thing everyday,” you replied.

Professor Hotchner looked back at you. “What kind thing did you hear today?”

You didn’t know where he was going with that but you thought about it. “I think Ethel, the older woman who lives across the hall from me, said I had nice eyes this morning.”

“You think? Are you so used to people complimenting your eyes that you don’t notice anymore?” Professor Hotchner looked into your eyes and you definitely felt something warm settle in your chest as he maintained eye-contact. 

You shook your head nervously. “What? No. I just…”

He smiled at you and you knew he was probably teasing you now. “You do have nice eyes, Y/N.”

You smiled at him before you hid behind your mug a little. “Well, thank you. So do you.”

You weren’t the type of person who blushed at the smallest of compliments but this time you were. It had a lot to do with the fact that you found Professor Hotchner very attractive.

He chuckled and he raised his eyebrows in a way that betrayed his amusement. “Okay, no. Take a compliment without offering one back.”

“How?” you asked, unsure. You didn’t know how to listen to him complimenting you without offering him a compliment in return. Especially since you had a long list of compliments to feed him in mind.

“I’ll give you another one and this time, you just thank me.” His voice was soft and you wondered why he was staying and talking with you over coffee after he had already answered your question.

Most professors answered your questions and left and here he was, telling you to accept his compliments. Somehow, you had a feeling this discussion was crossing a few lines but you couldn’t care less.

“Fine.”

He smiled at you and this time, he smiled fully. You even noticed his dimples and you had to focus on not looking at his lips before all you could think about was how they would taste. You focused on his beautiful brown eyes that seemed to sparkle a little and that wasn’t working either. He was distracting and you didn't know where to focus.

“You’re the brightest student I’ve seen in a long while.”

You blushed fully this time and you couldn’t bother hiding it because he definitely saw you blush, he was looking at your face like he was trying to commit every one of your features to memory. It felt intense to be almost scrutinized like this, but you also enjoyed having his sole attention.

“Thank you?”

He chuckled at that. “Is that a question?”

“No?”

He tilted his head a little, clearly teasing you and you had to remind yourself he was just being kind. “You’re not really good at receiving compliments, are you?”

You chuckled at that, trying to hide your blushing cheeks from him with the rest of your coffee. “Look who’s talking.”

You saw Professor Hotchner’s eyes dart down to your lips as you smiled and you wondered if you had imagined it. 

You risked a glance towards his lips as well and you felt suspended in time. Something had shifted and you weren’t sure if you were the only one feeling this way. There was something in the air you couldn't quite place.

He cleared his throat, breaking the spell and he looked at his watch. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I have to go if I want to make it home to Jack before traffic hits.”

You noticed he had mentioned his son by name this time and you made a mental note to remember his son’s name to ask about him from time to time. You certainly tried not to take notice of the fact he had said he was going home to his son and not his family. 

It occurred to you that you could do something for him that would be kind. “Professor Hotchner, does your son like puns?” 

“I’ll only answer that if you promise to call me Hotch from now on.”

You remembered belatedly he had asked you to call him that earlier. “Sorry. Hotch. Does Jack like puns?”

He nodded, his brow furrowed. He looked unsure. “He does.”

You went through your bag and you found the smallest book in there to offer it to him. “I keep a few of those everywhere for when I need to laugh at the world and how ridiculous this all is. Perhaps Jack would like this.”

He took it from you, looking through it briefly. “Are you sure?”

You smiled at him and nodded. “You’ll be dad of the year by the end of this book, believe me.”

He smiled back and for some reason, this time, you really wanted to say goodbye to him in the most unethical way. 

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Have a nice day, Hotch,” you replied, gathering your things to leave the coffee shop as well. 

You watched Hotch leave the coffee shop and you knew you were fucked if you were to spend an entire semester with him. He was intelligent, kind, good-looking and he had the nicest smile you had ever seen. 

You went home, stopping by Ethel’s apartment on your way in. Ethel was the older woman living across the hall from you. She was always offering you food and she was all around the nicest woman to ever walk the Earth. You knocked even if she had given you a key to her apartment a few weeks back.

She beamed at you as she saw you. “Hi dear, want to join me for dinner?”

“Only if you let me offer you dessert, Ethel.”

She smiled at you, hugging you on your way in. She was the closest thing you had ever had to a mother and she smelled like comfort. 

“I shouldn’t enjoy all those calories but I will,” she replied. 

You ate dinner with her and you went back to your apartment to gather the ingredients to make cupcakes before going back to Ethel's. Ethel loved red velvet cupcakes and you tried to make them for her once in a while. 

You were just putting icing on them when your cellphone pinged. You had left it on the counter and Ethel and you were close enough that she would look for you and tell you if it was important. 

“Oh dear, who’s Professor Hotchner and why is he so kind to you?” she asked, and you were too surprised to come up with an answer that made sense.

“Sorry? What do you mean?”

Ethel picked up your phone and she smirked. “Do you want me to read it for you since you have your hands full?”

You focused on finishing putting on the icing as you nodded your approval. “Please.”

You knew Ethel knew her way around your phone after many hours of you teaching her how to FaceTime her children who lived in Australia.

“Dear Y/N, you have made me dad of the year already. Thank you for the little book. Jack laughed more tonight than he has in the last three years. Since my wife passed, his laugh wasn't a sound I have heard nearly enough. You brought a little joy into our world today. Just say thank you this time. Hotch.”

You were blushing and your heart was beating out of your chest. You felt for Hotch at the mention of his late wife, though. You knew now why you didn’t see her on the picture in his office or why he mentioned going home to Jack only. You saw Ethel looking at you with a knowing smirk.

Damn her and her perceptive nature. 

You knew you should explain without betraying Hotch. “He, uh… I gave him one of punny books.”

Ethel looked at your phone again, clearly checking his email again. “You gave one of your little books to your professor for him and his son to enjoy? He has you calling him by his nickname already, too. Want to tell me something, Y/N?”

You shook your head, doing your best to hide your smile as you thought about Hotch enjoying puns and smiling. “No. He’s just… Remember the professor whose books I read over and over again?”

“Yes. Oh! You have a little crush, don’t you?” Ethel asked, and you knew she knew the answer to that already. Ethel could read you like a book, she had since day one.

“Ethel.”

“That’s not a no.”

You finished putting on the icing and you looked away, unable to face Ethel. “It’s wrong. I can’t have a crush on my professor.”

“Honey, he reached out to you and mentioned he was single. What more do you need?”

You wondered why he had opened up about being a widower, but what really made you feel happy about his email was that his son enjoyed the puns.

“It’s not like that. He’s just grateful.”

Ethel smiled at you and you were grateful for her. She had always been supportive of your preferences when it came to men.

“You brought a little joy into our world? Y/N. Even I know this isn’t the kind of thing you should say to your student.”

You took the cellphone from her and debated replying right away. You offered a cupcake to Ethel and she stopped pestering you as she bit into it. You went home shortly after that, needing to be alone to gather your thoughts. You took a beer out of your fridge and you sipped on it before replying to Hotch. 

Dear Hotch, (it still feels weird not to be more polite, I have to admit)

I am glad you and Jack enjoy the book so far. Here’s a pun I found in another book for you to share with Jack.

Why did the tomato turn red? Because it saw the salad dressing!

On that note, thank you for everything today. Y/N

You settled on the couch with a good book and you drank some of your beer, knowing you would have to get up early tomorrow for work. You were going to work all day tomorrow and then you would have to go to the library to type out your notes on a computer. You needed a laptop but you couldn’t afford one for now, so you made do as best as you could. You sent your essays from a school computer, you typed out your stuff there and you printed what you could from there. Whenever you were asked to compile data for research purposes, you had to do it from the library as well. At least, you had access 24/7. 

You went to bed that night thinking of Hotch’s smile, of his dimples, of his lips, of his eyes and you knew without a doubt you were in for a long semester because it was irrefutable. You had a crush on your professor. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #professor!hotch x student!reader #winsteria reads

[winsteria]

PROFESSOR HOTCH AND STUDENT!READER? YES PLEASE AAAA!! I'm genuinely so excited for the next part 🤭🤎

Part 1 - We've Only Just Begun

Summary: Professor Hotchner is impressed when you show up in his criminal psychology class. You are eager to learn and he is more than happy to help.

MINORS DNI -- 18+

Pairing: Professor!Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Warnings for this part: talking about rape in the context of criminal psychology, talking about rapists in the same context, mention of bondage, mention of kinks, terrible writing

Word count: 3.1k

Aaron Hotchner was nothing if not the epitome of professionalism. As a criminal psychology professor at the University of Virginia, he had his fair amount of dealings with the twisted and warped thinking of people.

He knew all about the human psyche, he had read all there was to read about paraphilias and paraphiliac behaviors. He had read the DSM way more time than necessary. He was an expert in all matters of sexual deviations and he could tell from afar what kind of deviant he was facing on any given day. He had consulted with the FBI a few times and he had even interviewed a few violent serial rapists in his line of work, mostly for research. He had written three books on the matter and he was well-known at the university for being the person to go to for anything pertaining to criminal behavior.

What he didn’t expect was to be confronted and challenged while giving his introductory lecture to his newest grad students.

You had walked into his class this morning with a smile and a spring in your step that was unusual for most students before noon. He had watched you take a seat in the front row, taking notes with a pen on paper and he wondered why you weren’t using a laptop like the other students. So, of course, he noticed you quickly.

You seemed different and you beamed at the material he was presenting in ways he hadn’t experienced before. You weren’t just enthusiastic, you actually engaged with the material and you asked questions that were far too advanced for the other students, but Aaron was too impressed with your questions not to answer them. Of course, when you quoted his book perfectly, he had to fight a smile from escaping his lips.

Ever since his wife died three years ago, he had been labelled miserable and uptight and Aaron never cared to correct his colleagues or his students because while he wasn’t uptight, he was certainly miserable more often than not. The only joy in his life was his son and Aaron could barely admit that if it hadn’t been for his son Jack, he probably wouldn’t be standing in front of his newest students today.

Aaron tried to get the other students to ask questions as the lecture progressed, but you were the only one who seemed to be awake enough to engage with the material and Aaron had to find a way to look at the others instead of focusing on you.

You were stunning and he wasn’t blind, but you were also the only one who interacted with him and it made him wonder if he was that boring or if you were just that interested in learning about criminal psychology.

There was something about watching you take notes with a pen as he answered your questions that made him want to know more about you. He knew he shouldn’t, it wasn’t appropriate in the least, but he wanted to find out more about you. You looked way too bright for an introductory course. You looked way too good for him not to care.

Aaron eventually moved along with his lecture as you took notes on his latest answer to you. He waited a bit but when he saw you didn’t ask questions this time, he continued with his presentation.

He looked at the clock in the room and he didn’t have long to work with now which was a relief because watching you intently listening to him made him doubt his own sanity. He had seen many beautiful women in his lifetime, but you were something else. What didn’t help was the fact that you didn’t look anywhere else. You looked at him and him only and after about two hours, his skin felt warm.

It had been a while since he found anyone that enticing and he had a hard time focusing on his own material. Fortunately, he knew it enough to recite each section by heart.

He started talking about how just recently, bondage was taken off the list of sexual deviances. He mentioned that in criminal matters, bondage wasn’t considered deviant behavior anymore.

When you raised your hand at that, he had to suppress another smile from escaping his lips. You had a glint of amusement in your eyes and he knew without a doubt that talking about bondage had spurred you on for another series of question. He was more than happy to answer them if it meant getting to interact with you some more.

“Aren’t there instances where bondage proved to be paraphilic? Would that notion vary, let’s say in any of the cases you’ve worked on, Professor Hotchner?” you asked, clearly wondering if there were certain behaviors that would still fall under the criteria of sexual deviations.

Aaron was impressed by the quality of your questions so far but he hid it well. He always did. It was one of his best qualities and to be fair, not showing emotion had gotten him this far, after all.

“To my knowledge, the only criterion for bondage to be considered deviant is when an offender uses chains,” he answered, doing his best to address the whole classroom but finding you to be the only one who seemed entirely focused on him.

You frowned a little and Aaron tried hard to tell himself it wasn’t the cutest thing he had ever seen.

“Chains are degrading, nasty, and violent. Sexual bondage is about control, it’s about power. Aren’t those the primary motives for sexual sadists?” you pondered.

Aaron nodded, now entirely focused on you. He didn’t care, his other students didn’t seem to care. “They are.”

He saw you taking notes again and he looked around the room again, but there was something about the back and forth with you this morning that made him feel more alive than he had felt in a long time. He was certainly aware that the rest of the students didn’t seem to care much for you and your questions, clearly putting off their plans to leave early on their first day back. Aaron didn’t care, though, because as long as you would ask questions, he would answer them to the best of his ability. It had been a while since he had felt intellectually challenged by his pupils and he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity for his mind to be stimulated today. You were far too advanced for his introductory lecture, but he was more than happy to think about the fact that you could show up in his more advanced courses later on during your degree.

“But bondage doesn’t fall under sexual deviations anymore? Rendering someone helpless, tying them up… Isn’t that paraphilic in nature?” you asked.

You were seemingly unaware that bondage became normal enough not to be considered deviant behavior. Aaron was overjoyed that someone like you showed up today. Not only did you actually make it worth it to come into work, you used the correct terminology and while you still had questions, you were absolutely going to get the highest grade in this class, of that, he was sure.

“Considering that the human sex drive is 10% biological, 20% physiological and 70% psychosexual, we can argue that chains fall into some kind psychosexual release. For the average male, sight is the primary stimuli when it comes to sensory acts like sex. Chains fit a certain type of fantasy where an offender gets aroused by seeing his partner helpless and more often than not, those chains will fit a very specific set of criteria to satisfy the offender’s fantasy. There was a case a while back where, um- let’s say, John Doe- used chromatic chains in every rape. He confessed that he couldn’t get an erection unless those precise chains were used. Not only was he highly ritualistic, his scenario wasn’t satisfying without those chains. What does that tell us about the nature of his fantasy?”

“For an offender to chain up his non-consenting partner, there has to be self-perceptional or paraphilic deviations. Most men will be content with living out a fantasy inside their head. But fantasies, intricate fantasies, they require intelligence and sometimes, offenders do not have the brain power to entertain those. That’s when they take matters into their own hands to find that release they crave,” you clarified.

“Before doing that, they usually use their spouses or partners before they move on to other victims,” Aaron added.

“Would they try to use sensory or motor bondage first?” you asked, and Aaron knew instantly what you were doing. You were trying to question what he wrote in his newest book and he doubted anyone else had read it in the room.

Aaron raised his eyebrows. He was not only impressed, he was caught off guard. “Since you seem to know an awful lot about those, care to share with the rest of the group?”

You nodded, addressing the class as you explained, “Sensory bondage is when someone deprives you of one of your senses. Motor bondage prevents the victims from moving.”

You looked back in his direction as you finished your sentence and Aaron tried to blink instead of staring at you. He was fascinated already and he knew that he couldn’t be.

“Good. This is when I tell you that sensory bondage isn’t considered deviant but motor bondage can sometimes be. It all falls under the notion of consent,” he clarified.

He was transfixed when you shifted in your seat, taking notes again. Aaron could control his impulses, he could control his urges and he could control anything that resembled desire exceedingly well. Yet, here he was, wondering if you’d follow him home if he asked.

He continued to explain bondage for the rest of the class, although he was not supposed to be addressing that until later on, in like three weeks according to his syllabus, but you had inspired him to develop a bit more on the topic.

“Could there be a relational component to a rape with chains? For example, if a man considers his partner to be his sex slave.”

Aaron tried to hide a smile because no one had ever mentioned rape components on their first day. You were definitely going to be his favorite student and he didn’t care to admit it to himself.

“Would you mind defining rape components for the rest of us?” he asked, aware that you knew. He wasn’t putting you on the spot and he was certain you were about to dazzle him with your intelligence again.

“There are five components when it comes to rape. It doesn’t mean that all five will be found in the offender’s behavior or in the victims’s accounts, though. There is a relational component, that is when the rapist imagines a rape to be the result of a date, that doesn’t mean the woman is consenting, but in his head, she would be. The relational component can be any relation, like I said earlier, a sex slave. There is a paraphilic component, that is when bondage, sadism or fetishism are involved. There is a situational component, this is most often characterized as role-play in consenting adults. In this case, it could be that the rapist is putting on his own show, living out his fantasy, for example, arresting someone and forcing them to touch him. There is a self-perceptional component, this is often derived from a god-complex, it shows narcissistic or sociopathic behavior. The rapist considers himself to be all-powerful over his victim. We find this one a lot in sexual sadists, especially because they get off on the suffering and domination. Then, there is a demographic component. This is just the victim fitting particular demographics.”

Aaron listened as you listed the five components perfectly, illustrating each one with an example. He was enthralled in the way your lips moved as you spoke, he loved every sound coming out of your mouth and your voice was definitely going to be easy to remember.

“Remarkable,” he praised you, then he realized his mistake in voicing it out loud and he added, “Thank you.” He noticed you blushing a little at the praise and he really couldn’t focus on that, so he tried to remember what he was going to say. “It is one of the main problems of today’s society. Most men try to discard their abhorrent behavior towards women under the pretense that it was meant to be pleasurable for both of them, but we know that women don’t get psychosexual pleasure from inanimate objects like chains.”

You smirked at him and it took all of his willpower not to smile at you. “Well, there is something to be said about how women fantasize but they don’t fetishize.”

Aaron was stunned. It was a direct quote from his latest book. You weren’t only bright, you were downright impressive and you were sitting a few meters away from him, beaming at him and the material in front of you.

Aaron had to dismiss you and your peers eventually, but he didn’t want to. He had this unsubstantiated fear that you wouldn’t come back because this was too entry-level for you.

When he saw you walk towards him to introduce yourself, he tried not to frown because he often didn’t know his students’s names before at least two weeks and the prospect of knowing yours made his chest feel too warm for his taste.

“I just wanted to thank you, Professor Hotchner. It was very kind of you to answer all my questions. I look forward to bugging you all semester.”

He wanted to say you could never annoy him with your intellect, but he knew that would be crossing a line.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” He offered his hand to you to shake it, mostly because he wanted to know you were real and not a figment of his imagination.

You were beautiful, brilliant and now you were showing him kindness. He was fucked if you were to stay in his class all semester. To be fair, it wasn’t typical for professors to shake hands with students, but Aaron couldn’t care less. He had to know you were real and when you took his hand, he thought about not letting go and bringing you towards him. He discarded that thought immediately, not knowing where it came from. The back and forth with the questions had been exciting and it captivated him to see you up close. That was all there was to it.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I’m so pleased to meet you, sir.”

When you let go of his hand, Aaron wondered if that handshake had been longer than his other handshakes, but he decided not to question it because he shouldn’t want to hold your hand longer than normal.

“How’d you find today’s class?” Aaron asked, his brow furrowed. He was trying to read you but you were too good at hiding your disappointment if you were indeed disappointed by the material.

“Honestly, I felt like I was surrounded by zombies but I guess it’s what I should expect out of this 9 AM class.” He chuckled at your comment because he had felt a bit depleted when he had looked around to see everyone focused on their screens instead of listening to him.

It was one of the things that got to him the most. Technology had taken away his joy of teaching. He knew he had a reputation for being a tough grader, a hard-ass, an obnoxious asshole, but that was mostly because nobody paid any attention in class nowadays.

Aaron gathering his things, putting away everything in his bag and trying to avoid looking you in the eye because you had beautiful eyes and your whole face was distracting, to say the least.

“Thank you for getting involved today, Y/L/N.”

“How mad do you think the others were?” you asked with a small and uncertain voice and Aaron wondered why it sounded much different than the confident tone you had used earlier to talk about rape components.

Aaron looked up, offering you a comforting smile. “I wouldn’t worry about them too much. Ask me your questions when you have some and don’t mind them. I’ll make them regret it if they say anything.”

You gave him a heartwarming smile and this time, Aaron knew he wouldn’t be able to forget what it looked like.

“I should get going, but just so you know, it’s an honor to meet you, Professor. You are incredible.”

Aaron just had to ask. “You’ve read my books, haven’t you?”

“Yes. I was told to come here prepared.”

“This is an intro course. You seem further along in your training. You are too knowledgeable already.” Aaron looked at you then, catching a flush creeping up your neck. He only offered you a simple compliment, but it had worked. Aaron discarded the warmth in his chest as he watched you brush it off.

“I was always fascinated by the human mind and I read your books during my undergrad studies. Except for the latest one of course. I read it last night when I saw your name on my schedule.”

Aaron certainly noticed you blushing this time as you admitted to reading his book last night and he was in half a mind to ask you if you wanted him to sign his books for you because he didn’t want this moment to end.

“Don’t flatter me too much, I am a selfish man and I will make you repeat the high praises whenever I doubt my intellectual or writing abilities,” he joked, hoping to know what your laugh sounded like.

“I would be happy to be your cheerleader if you ever doubt your work again.” You offered him a smile that took his breath away and he had to refrain from smiling back because you were almost too good to be true.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he added, deciding that smiling back wasn’t the worst thing he could do considering his train of thought.

Aaron and you both went your separate ways shortly after that and Aaron had to remind himself he wasn’t supposed to think about you for the rest of the day. He couldn’t help it, though. It had been one of those weeks where teaching didn’t feel fulfilling anymore as he prepared for yet another semester and you showed up just in time to remind him that there was something rewarding about teaching and inspiring young minds.

Aaron went home that night and he couldn’t forget your face, your name or the way you seemed to be in awe of him. For the first time in a while, he went home to Jack with a smile on his face and he wondered what this new semester would bring. He was certainly looking forward to answering your questions again.

#aaron hotchner x reader #winsteria reads #winsteria favorites #professor!hotch x student!reader

[winsteria]

THIS IS SO GOOD!! 😭🤎

“N-no, please tell me that after I broke your heart, this is what happened. This is what you got. You never deserved this. You deserved so much more. You deserved more than I could ever give you. You met someone, you met Jake after me, you were in a relationship with him for 10 years. He beat you Y/n. Please tell me that it’s not Jake who did this to you. Please tell me that it’s not the man I watched you dance with at your wedding while I wished it had been me. Please tell me that Jake didn’t do this to you, that you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time with someone.”

This part is really heartbreaking and I could honestly feel the emotions that he's feeling at the moment he says it 😭

Rossi showed them your engagement ring and picture and said, “They were engaged. Hotch was her fiancè.”

I AM SHOCKED. OMG WHAT HAPPENED? AAA I'M SO EXCITED TO KNOW MORE AND READ THE NEXT PART!! <33 😩😩

I’ll Spend The Rest of My Life Making It Up To You Series

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!reader

Warnings: Domestic Abuse, bruises, blood, broken glass/mirrors, trauma, engagement, marriage, reader does have a child. 

A/n: Long title but idc… Here’s part 1. I’m halfway through student teaching and I begin my elementary placement next week. So who knows when part two will come around, but it will! Comment if you’d like to be tagged in part 2.

WC: 3.8K

Masterlist

You were in an abusive relationship. Problem was, you had been in it for 10 years before coming to terms with your abuser. It took one special person to help you. That special person had a significant role in your life before you met your husband, your abuser. What happens after years of not seeing them? What’s going to happen to you? Will you survive the cycle of abuse? Will you get help? Will you get out? Are you strong enough to break the cycle?

Keep reading

#aaron hotchner x reader #winsteria reads

[winsteria]

i will never get tired of saying this, but he's such an adorable softie 🥺🥺

I got you!

🍓Sherlock being grumpy and just sort of flopping onto your lap when you’re on the couch and asking for you to play with his hair.

Bri as always you have lovely ideas and I absolutely adore them. Apologies for the delay on this one but the inspiration finally struck! Strawberry boy is a delight mwah 🍓🥰

Cuddles & Unruly Curls

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, repost, copy, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03)

Sherlock had been grumpy for lack of a case most of the day, pacing back and forth while you carefully worked the Christmad tree into an upright position praying that it won't topple over. Needless to stay it still stayed up and you couldn't help but admire.

Sherlock on the other hand sighs in exasperation still going on and on about the logistics of a past case you're frankly not interested in at this point.

Your thoughts turn back to your book brimming with adventure and cozy log cabins. It is always a lovely escape for your anxious mind brimming with worst case scenarios.

"....it was repulsive, not needed!" He flops onto your lap ao unceremoniously, jolting you from your romantic fantasies.

You mumble softly in protest adjusting so you can get more comfortable, your eyes not leaving the pages in front of you as you flip one again.

He sighs loudly again squirming a fraction, to no avail. He mumbles again and this time you're the one fighting back a laugh and flip another page of your book.

"Something you're trying to tell me Sherlock?" You watch as he reaches up for your book, gently taking it from your hands and sets it on the table. If you squint hard enough you can still see the imprint of his foot left from a few days prior. You huff a little in annoyance and lean down to look at him and he tilts his chin up to stare back at you.

Your heart flutters and your face grows warm the longer you look at him, a silent language all it's own and you find yourself brushing your fingers along his lips, up to his cheeks to caress those irresistible cheekbones.

You can see the internal struggle of his please and you respond in kind leaning over him to capture his lips with yours as he reaches you halfway and you melt, nibbling his lips a fraction making him gasp.

"Could- could you do that thing...?" He whispers quietly you almost miss it, his beautiful rich baritone a symphony to your ears.

You smile softly, still arched over him and your thumb tracing his lower lip. "The thing? Could you be more specific?"

"The thing..." He mumbles, squirming a little as he adjusts his head in your lap which causes you to chuckle.

"You want me to touch your curls is that right?"

The soft noise of affirmation he gives is all it takes and your hands work their way into his unruly locks massaging the scalp ever so gently, causing him to groan. His eyes close at the sensations, soft whimpers falling from him as you continue with care.

His breathing slows and yet you continue long after he falls asleep, his beautiful crown of curls falling across his brow and you find yourself drafting as well, murmuring a sleepy goodnight to the dark room and lay a gentle kiss to his before draping blanket along him before you lose yourself to the abyss of sleep.

******

@bakerstreethound @lilythemadqueen @frostandflamesfanfic @feral-for-strange @starks-hero @lykaonimagines @sherlocks-blanket @aephereal @classickook @azu21 @strangelockd @sobeautifullyobsessed @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds  @evelynrosestuff ​ @starstruck-loner ​

#my bby #sherlock x reader #winsteria reads

[winsteria]

THEY FINALLY KISSED AAA but I DID NOT EXPECT THE ENDING 😭

the night we met, part 2

a/n: mentions of gun and blood. nothing too explicit. hope you enjoy 🤍

what if haley never died that day? but what if your love for hotchner had to?

part 1

i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you...

days trickled into weeks and weeks dribbled into months, hotch had momentarily stepped down as the unit chief leader and instead morgan was in charge. you were partly glad because you didn't know how much you could stand being in hotchner's presence but on the other hand, it was as if your heart willed him to appear in front of you. he was a drug and you wanted to get lost into him, intertwine your souls together as if you were one.

but haley was back and in his arms, safe and sound. why would he give you his time when his wife was there?? all he ever wanted was his family. you were never going to be haley. you could never be jack's parent. you could never be his lover

you're snapped out of your thoughts as the elevator dings, everyone tiredly making their way to grab their personal items and make their way out.

"i'm so excited to go home tonight" emily shrugs on her bag, quickly dumping her personal items into her bag.

"a date?" morgan raises an eyebrow teasingly and she rolls her eyes playfully, shaking her head.

"with my hot tub and before you ask, you're not invited" she gives him a little smirk as they playfully start bantering between themselves. you're lost in the moment, you couldn't remember the last time you had felt so carefree and happy. without a time it felt like your heart was being dragged by anchors, it seemed difficult to keep afloat lately.

"are you okay?" jj quietly asks you amongst the chattering of tonight's plan and you just simply stared into space. it was hard to give an answer and she understood, her hands patting your shoulder sympathetically.

garcia bursts in, capturing everyone's attention. her happiness was practically beaming off from her in waves, excited to share some news. but you walk over to the coffee bench to grab some water, trying to fill the hollowness in you with something other than your boss.

"you guys, may i introduce our newest bau profiler!!" penelope's voice is faint and muffled under the sounds of your thoughts but it's when you see your team giggling at you that makes you perk your eyebrows in confusion. jj waves you over and you narrow your eyes, discarding your coffee to the side.

you hear a coo of aww's filling the room, the team practically melting as you go back to your desk, coming forwards to see what all the fuss was about until you see the vision.

there, five year old jack emerges from behind his parents, giving you his biggest smile. his clothes look like your bau ones, a badge pinned on his jumper to say he was your little helper. he walks towards you, holding some flowers in his hands.

"oh my god, jack...." you chuckle softly, bending down to meet his level. you look at his sweet face and there you see aaron in him, it makes you want to cry at how precious his son was. how beautiful the whole family was.

"thank you for saving my mom, miss y/n" he whispers, his big beautiful eyes glancing up at you.

"thank you for helping work the case jack" you smile softly, gently giving him a high five. he leans forwards planting the tiniest of kisses upon your cheek. then he gives you a huge grin, running off to proudly show his outfit to the others.

you stand, giving him a smile as you grab your bag. hotch was talking to the rest but when he sees you're free, he starts to approach you. immediately as if on autopilot you walk straight to your office. hoping he doesn't follow. hoping he would leave you be.

but your boss was never one to follow instructions

"y/n, how have you been?" he smiles, his dimpled cheeks illuminating underneath the spotlights. he walks forwards but your back is turned to him, seeing him now felt entirely too soon. you thought you were ready but him being here stirrs some emotions you thought had died the night you saved his wife. oh, how wrong you were.

"good, i'm good. thanks" you fidget with the files, hoping he picks up on your discomfort. you drop some papers accidentally which require you to turn around so you grit your teeth and turn, still not making eye contact. hoping someone would call you or him to get out of this beyond awkward situation. but he simply eyes you, his smile disappearing a little. he edges closer and toys with his fingers, his brows raised in thought.

"well... i just wanted to thank you for that night. i can't even begin to describe my appreciation and i never had the chance to talk to you" he tries to smile but you nod, busying yourself with the files in your hands.

"no worries, you would have done the same for me" you smile though every second being in his presence is enough to make you tremble and shake. every second here was enough to make you break and you wouldn't do that. you couldn't break haley and him up after foyet. he deserved to be happy with or without you.

"yes..." he drifts off, unable to shake the feeling that you were avoiding him. had he done something to you? why were you acting like he was contagious with some disease?

"is everything alright?" he doesn't register he's even said the words until you finally make eye contact, your brows furrowed in confusion.

"yes, why?" you reply back a little defensively which adds on to his suspicions, and he's aware something is bothering you now, more specifically he must've done something to make you act like this.

"what's the matter, l/n?" he asks sternly, his brows furrowing deep as you try to side step him. there it is, he's the ssa chief unit hotchner speaking to his colleague demanding an answer.

he doesn't let up and you could feel yourself beginning to break under his gaze. everything that could've been, everything that you so desperately wanted to happen swirling in your eyes. you want to hold him tight and never let go, cry in his embrace and just kiss him until his name is burned into your skin.

only how could you feel like this when his wife and son were but a few feet away, you could hear them now laughing away. how could you be so cruel to do that to jack? he finally had both of his parents.

"n-nothing" you reply hopelessly, it was as though you were under water. your lungs begging for air that never reached for them, your head screaming at you to leave right now. before something happens you'll regret forever.

but he tilts your chin upwards, forcing you to look into his eyes. your breathing was laboured, quivering underneath his powerful gaze. you're not sure which emotion is more dominant, they all burn so bright in his eyes.

i love you, i love you, i love you-

your feet are glued to the floor and you don't let yourself think of the rationality before you do the next part, breaking every rule you had ever written as you both crash into each other.

you don't know who made the first move, all you knew was that his lips were on yours. they were soft, softer than you could've imagined them to be. his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, asking for permission and you relinquish all your control to him.

he holds your head between his warm palms and you pull him closer, needing his touch all over you. his hands trailed delicately across the curves of your body, following the arch of your spine. a burning desire awoke deep in your stomach, arching into him and he tightens his grip around.

"where's dad??" a voice cuts you both off and you jump in shock, heart sinking all the way to your stomach as you realise what you've done.

"i...." he breaks off, taking several steps back. his hands ghost his lips and he looks at you with such an intensity it makes you shake under his gaze. he wants to say something, anything but he only just looks at you.

you were the same, taking a couple steps back until your thighs hit the desk. all of it was hazy, a dream, a play. you try to grasp the concept of what you had done and the shame burns your skin, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"i-i gotta..." you don't even finish your words, pushing past him. hearing your name being called but unable to turn away, going wherever your legs take you. you managed to duck the rest of the team who were absorbed into the gossip of the office, thankfully. hot tears leave your eyes, trying to calm your racing heart but it feels like you're slipping further and further away from reality.

aaron turns around, his hands clenched around the edge of the desk. pictures of haley, jack and you cloud his mind. how could things have gone so complicated? the kiss it all felt so right, like the piece of the puzzle he was trying to find for years. only now, he feared that your relationship was damaged beyond repair. that this time there wouldn't be a second chance.

he curses, his fists slamming against the desk. all he could think about you, all he needed was you. you were the thing that haunted him when he awoke, before he slept and every second in between. he couldn't let you go like this so he turns and jogs towards the exit, you had to hear the truth.

you duck into the safe sanctuary of your car, bringing your knees to chest. this had all gone so wrong, so fast. you missed him earlier on, missed the simplicity of it all. but now it had all plummeted deep in the ground, unable to be fixed together again. it feels impossible to control your heart rate and your breathing, vision contantly blurry with the tears that won't stop tracking down your cheeks.

in the midst of your heartbreak however, you don't realise that you're no longer alone in your car. before you had time to react, the cold barrel of a gun presses against your temple and your blood runs cold, hands squeezed tightly around the wheel.

words failed you, your scream dies on your lips. hope thuds in your blood, that someone comes out and notices, hoping that he would run after you and gets this attacker off of you.

he had to, he wouldn't leave you alone. he would've come after so where is he?? but the doors remain empty and you feel your heart breaking slowly in your chest.

the voice cuts you off, delivering a hard punch with the back of the gun directly to your temple. you hiss in pain, a wave of nausea and dizziness crashing over you. spots clouded your vision and your right eye was beginning to be covered with a thick warm fluid. it felt hard to see, pouring far too quickly and for a second you panic. but it drops to your lap and you see what it truly was. blood

you inhale sharply gritting your mouth, refusing to say a word. the chill of the metal rests against your head once more, hearing the click of the revolver in place

"drive, now" the voice commanded and you inhale a shaky breath hoping hotch would run out. praying he would come to your rescue. but you realise that life doesn't always go to plan like how you desperately wished it would.

so you follow the order of the foreign man, shaking as you leave the building. far, far away from the safety of your team and hotch.

take me back to the night we met...

#aaron hotchner x bau!reader #aaron hotchner x reader

[winsteria]

John: Why are you making that face? Does your drink taste bad or something?

Sherlock: Y/N put salt in it because I annoyed them, but I’m going to continue to drink it because I’m petty and I refuse to let them win.

#BYE HAHAHA #I can imagine him doing this 😭 #i love him 🤭

[winsteria]

the pain of having to see him do all these sweet things with beth; i'm literally crying right now. this fic is so good that it managed to make me cry and hurt me so much 😭

deja vu (a.h.)

Keep reading

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x bau!reader

[winsteria]

“Oh, so she can worry, but I can’t,” Hotch whispers before moving towards his office like a sleek cat.

THIS IS SO FUNNY 😭

aaron having a soft spot for bau!reader is always the best 🤭🤭

Oblivious - Aaron Hotchner

Summary: A fight with an unsub leads to you finding out about Hotch’s feelings.

Pairing: bau!reader x Aaron Hotchner

Everything I’ve ever written | Join my taglist

Keep reading

#aaron hotchner x bau!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #winsteria reads