Built for sin -Aaron Hotchner x reader-

1.

TW: slight mention of self-harm

You looked at the silver notebook in your hands and the anxiousness in you only increased. Law and psychology classes.
Calm down, it's just a class.
Your room was messy, as always. Your two roommates were getting ready, but you couldn't. Your mind was just too busy. You couldn't think about anything other than him.

You walked over to the window in your campus room and admired the pretty surroundings. You always loved Virginia. It made you feel safe, especially in the area around Quantico. You were aspiring to become a criminal lawyer. Well, anything including crime.

Then you saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Aaron Hotchner. He was your professor in the law school that you were attending. You were madly in love with him. Madly.
He was walking to class, a briefcase in his hand. Again in a suit that outlined his biceps and strong arms. It made you wonder how it would feel to have them wrapped around your neck. Your hips were made for his hands, your lips for his.
Since your last relationship, you haven't felt anyone's touch. It's been a while.
Have your last relationship ended because of that damn professor? Perhaps.

You don't even get to see him every week. He has another job in the FBI so when they got a case, he can be missing for even as long as two weeks. Those weeks are the hardest for you. Seeing him is like a drug.

You swallowed loudly and glanced at your own reflection in the rainy window. You are a patient, gentle and hard-working student. Maybe a little lost one. Since you were young, you felt like you have to help others. That's why you were attending criminal justice university.
You were a happy kid. You were a very artsy one. Always drawing, making something out of clay, and giggling when you would get paint on your face. But all of that changed.
Your only best friend growing up was your 15-year-old sister. She was the light in your life.
You lost her when you were around 7. She was kidnapped and murdered. They caught the killer, but justice was not served. He got only 10 years. 10 fucking years. Since then, you became closed off. You couldn't remember the last time you drew. Thankfully, a therapist was offered to you. It helped you a bit, but you still miss her.

Your friends call you the "mom" of the group, as you were always independent. Well, group means you and two of your friends, Layla and Michelle. You share a room with them, they're like a family to you. Spending evenings with them, drinking wine as some divorced moms became a tradition now. A really nice tradition.
You were just an overall caring person. You put yourself first before others. You just didn't know what to do with yourself.

The rain hammered on the roof, making you get out of the trance you were in.

"Come on, Y/n, we have to go," said Michelle, making you jump as you didn't expect her to speak.

You looked away from the window, making eye contact with her.

"I'll just get my stuff, I'll catch up with you."

You walked from the window, got your bag, and went to the bathroom. The anxiety in you only rose. Professor Hotchner made your hands sweaty, your knees tremble, and filled your stomach with butterflies. You were almost ready to go, you just had to grab some papers for the meeting you scheduled today with no other than Mr. Hotchner. You had to go already, your class started in like 20 minutes. 

"Who you trying to impress?" Layla smirked. You had a short skirt and a blouse on, which you didn't usually wear, as you wore more comfortable and baggy clothes. You were walking across campus, the cold stinging you in your cheeks.

"No one, dummy," you said and laughed.

You grabbed a coffee on the way to class. Again, both of the girls forgot money, so you paid for them. Like every day.
It's just an endless cycle.