⭐️ — synopsis. It was no doubt to anyone how attractive and smart your professor was. You recognized his jarring looks but figured throwing yourself at your professor (as other students in your class did) wouldn’t mean anything. To your surprise, Professor HOTchner wants to talk to you.
⭐️ — author’s note: Chiaroscuro: use of string lights & strong darks; bold contrasts affecting the whole composition. Chose that word because it sounded cool. Also I am not very educated in anything art related so I hope this is accurate. Part two?
You pressed your fingertips harshly into your temple and rubbed, trying desperately to relieve the growing headache. The bright laptop screen in front of you did nothing to help your predicament. Thankfully, though, you had about twenty minutes until art class. Despite the teacher herself, the class was alright.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” you whispered to the screen in front of, willing a wonderfully composed essay about the rise and fall of ziggy stardust to magically appear and take up at least three pages. You checked the watch on your wrist and groaned again. Mrs. Chang always arrived fifteen minutes early to her class. She had a habit of leaving the door unlocked and almost had a heart attack the first time she walked into the room and saw you siprawled over three chairs with an arm over your eyes as you mentally prepared for your others classes. You supposed she let you stay because you had never caused her any problems and had a keen eye and passion for art.
When fifteen-til rolled around, you were mildly concerned. Mrs. Chang was old, sure, but her health had never been a problem before. And if she was ill, she probably would have told everyone
Another five minutes passed. Similarly to the first time Mrs. Chang first caught you being way too early to class, yout legs were crossed on one chair, your back on another, and your face observing the cieling on the third chair. Your arm propped up your head as you quietly murmured song lyrics and waited for Mrs. Chang.
The door swung open and you shot up. Your elbow slammed against the underside of a table and your fingers collided with the cold metal legs of the table as you looked, shell-shocked, at the dark haired man bustling towards the teacher’s desk. His dark brown eyes looked surprised to see you, much less to see you shaking your hand to attempt to relieve the stinging pain in your fingers. “Good morning. I’m so sorry- are you okay?”
Suspiciously, you nodded at the man and flexed your fingers. “Morning. Who are you?” The man looked barely old enough to be a teacher.
The man approached you and held out his hands. You carefully let your own palm hover over his. “I’m Professor Hotchner. Professor Chang had an accident and will be out for the rest of the semester. That doesn’t look good, but aren’t broken. Again, I am truly sorry for scaring you,” the professor explained. “May I ask who you are?”
You nodded and retracted your hands. You figured as much. You stepped back and tried to decipher the meaning of the look the strinkingly handsome man gave you. Professor Hotchner hummed after you told him your name. He had a small smile on his face, a business smile to keep from looking extremely displeased. There was no way someone could actually be that happy after having a conversation with you, you scoffed to yourself. Honestly though, the tall and lanky build paired with the obvious smarts and good lookds were exactly your type. But you tried to ignore the parting of your professor’s lips after you told him you normally came here early after your last class.
“Punctual ,” professor Hotchner nodded, “an admirable trait.”
You nodded. The professor’s mouth opened to say something else but the corwd of entering students stopped him. He looked at the mass of students and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his expression. “You got this, professor,” you said lightly before heading to your seat without waiting for a response.
“Thank you,” Aaron murmured, watching the braids in your shift as you maneauvered yourself past tables and to your seat. His attention snapped to the rest of the crowd as the chairs filled up around the room. Curious eyes followed his movement as he wrote his name on the whiteboard. He cleared his throat and began to teach.
Beside you sat one of your friends Isabella- to your left- and Norman- to your right. Isabella immediately purred as professor Hotchner’s shirt pulled up showed how nice his butt looked in the pants he wore. You and Norman both groaned.
“Be normal, for the love of God,” Norman begged, closing his eyes and resting his forhead on the heel of his palm. “He is the professor, Isabella Coryn Carlyle.”
Isabella just shrugged, watching Hotchner turn around and address the class. “He looks like he’s our age, Norm, don’t get that way. Izzy’s gotta get her extra credit somehow,” she joked, not even blinking.
You shook your head with quiet laughter. You agreed with the crowd of gawking men and women- the professor sure was a looker, but you had no chance with him anyway. Tons of prettier girls were in his line of sight. You listened to Isabella and Norman bicker for about half the class before you finally shut them down and had them lock in for the rest of the period (while making sure Izzy was writing stuff down instead of just paying attention to the way the professor’s bulge moved when he walked).
hi! can I request professor!hotch getting caught by his students being cute and so in love with professor!reader??
thank you angel ily 💜💜
today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)
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"-but when the prosecutor-" Aaron was cut off by the sound of his door creaking open, his eyes lighting up despite his neutral expression when you stepped through the doors.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," You grew sheepish at the adoring gazes of his students, clutching the picnic basket in your hands a little tighter, "I got here a few minutes early."
"You can sit at my desk, Y/N." Aaron gestured to his seat with a kind smile, "We'll leave in a few minutes."
"Where are you going?" One of his students asked, diverting his attention from you once more.
"Nowhere you need to be concerned about."
"On a picnic!"
You spoke at the same time, turning to each other with wide eyes. A round of coos and giggles rose from his students, and you shrunk bashfully into your seat, adjusting one of the straps on your sundress.
"That's enough," Aaron started up his lecture again, leaving you with one last fond smile, desperately trying to regain his students' attention, "As I was saying-"
