gemrambles

[gemrambles]

your writing is so so sweet thank u for posting my new favourite fic 🙏

my heart is a puddle right now...thank you so much!!! i'm so glad you liked it! <3

[gemrambles]

I Did My Time - A.H

summary: you and hotch have always had a close relationship. when hotch officially signs the divorce papers, you're the first person he wants to be with.

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!BAU!reader

warnings: NSFW, 18+ MDNI!, unprotected p in v sex, infidelity vibes??

wc: 2,497

A/N: i've been obsessed with "fresh out the slammer" by taylor swift recently so....

The buzz of laughter filled the bullpen as the team packed up for the night, energized by a rare early wrap on a case. Plans were made, large bar tabs anticipated, and the mood was light - until Hotch emerged from his office with a folder tucked under one arm and something unreadable in his expression. 

The team didn’t press him. They knew that look. When he murmured that he’d catch up later, they gave him space. 

You, of course, missed all of it. 

You’d stepped out briefly - gone to the washroom to freshen up after the jet ride before heading out. When you had returned, the bullpen was nearly empty. You frowned, checking the time on your phone, then turned toward the conference room only to find it empty as well. 

Your gaze shifted up to the second floor. 

Even before you had officially joined the team, there had always been something unspoken between you and Hotch. It wasn’t obvious, not to others. But it was in the way his gaze lingered just a second longer on you in briefings. The way he always made sure you got the quiet seat beside him on the jet. The way your name sounded just a little different when he said it. 

No lines had ever been crossed. Yet there was something. 

Confused, you made your way up the stairs to Hotch’s office. You could see that the lights were still on inside, casting a glow against the walls. You knocked lightly on the doorframe. 

“Hey. Did I miss the memo? Where’d everyone go?”

Hotch looked up from his desk. The folder was still in front of him, now closed, his fingers resting on top of it. 

“They went ahead. Said you’d meet them there.” You quirked a brow and stepped inside, walking up to his desk with a familiar playful grin. One that had gotten you out of more than a few reprimands. “And you? You hiding up here instead of celebrating?” He huffed a faint breath of amusement, eyes lifting to meet yours. There was something softer in them tonight. Tired, but lighter.

“Just finishing something important.” You tilted your head. “Something bad?”

“Final,” he said simply, tapping the folder. “I signed the divorce papers.”

Your expression shifted instantly, smile fading to something gentler. “Aaron….I’m -”

He shook his head. “No condolences. It was overdue. And it feels…finished.”

You hesitated, then slowly and playfully extended your hand toward him, palm open and inviting. “Well. In that case…come have a drink with me.”

He looked at your hand for a long second before his own lifted almost subconsciously, fingers curling around yours. His thumb lightly brushed across your knuckles.

You blinked in surprise at the contact, your heart skipping, but recovered quickly. You gave his hand a little tug. “Come on. Fresh start, right?”

He stood, still holding your hand. His lips curved into a quiet smile. “Yeah. Something like that.”

The bar’s lights glowed golden and low, casting a soft haze over the remaining patrons as the evening wore on. The team did a double take when you and Hotch walked in hand-in-hand, but no one said a word. Not yet. 

He didn’t let go of you all night, always close, always touching in some small, grounding way. 

Hotch glanced down at you, a rare hint of mischief in his eyes. “You ready to go?”

You looked up at him, your gaze filled with warm and admiration. “Only if you’re coming with me.”

He gave a soft chuckle, sliding a hand around your waist. “I’m not letting you out of my sight tonight.”

Outside, the night was cool, the air crisp against your flushed skin. You hailed a cab, his hand finding yours again as you slipped into the backseat together. There was a tension - sweet and charged - settling between you, thicker than anything you’d shared before. 

Hotch’s knee bumped yours gently, his thumb stroking the inside of your palm absently. You turned toward him slightly, eyes searching his face in the quiet dark.

“You doing okay?” you asked, your voice softer now. 

His gaze flicked to you, “I am now.” You leaned in slowly, testing, breath brushing his cheek. “You sure?” you teased, though there was real concern threaded beneath your voice.

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, his hand came up to cup your cheek, and he kissed you. Deep and slow. Reverent. As though he’d been waiting years to do it - like the only way to survive now was to start something new, something just for the two of you.

The cab rolled to a stop. He pulled away, breathing a little heavier, eyes locked on yours. 

“Come upstairs with me,” you whispered.

He didn’t hesitate. “Lead the way.”

You unlocked the door with slightly shaky fingers, the weight of Aaron’s presence making every movement feel more deliberate, more aware. His hand rested on your lower back, following you inside. Your apartment was dim and quiet, the door clicking shut behind him. 

Slowly, you turned to face him, toeing off your shoes. “Still feeling like you want to be around me?”

He stepped closing, his hands instinctively finding your hips, his voice was low and certain. You watched as his gaze briefly flicked down to your lips, then back to your eyes. “More than ever.”

You grinned. “I’ve been thinking of this all night,” you whispered, your fingers curling into the lapels of his blazer, pulling him down towards your lips. The kiss wasn’t rushed. It was deliberate. Slow. As though he wanted to memorize every part of you. 

You slightly pulled back, your forehead resting against his. “Is this okay?” you asked, voice breathy. 

“More than okay,” he murmured, his hand sliding up your side to cradle your jaw. “I’ve thought about this,” he began, eyes glazing over your body. “More than I should have.” 

His confession made your heartbeat speed up, your stomach flipping. A shy smile broke out across your face. “Yeah?” you asked, eyes soft. “Have you been dreaming of me?” you teased. 

His eyes darkened slightly. “If only you knew the thoughts I’ve had about you.” 

Your grip on his shoulders tightened as you felt your knees weaken. His voice was deeper than normal. Full of lust. You had never needed anything more than you needed him in this moment. 

He kissed you again, this time with purpose, with something deeper behind it. And when he pulled you toward your bedroom, his fingers intertwined with yours, it was a certainty that neither of you would be letting go anytime soon. 

The bedroom door shut softly behind you, and Hotch turned to you with a look that sent heat curling in your belly. You stepped closer, fingers toying with the first button of his shirt. 

“You gonna let me undress you, Hotchner?” you murmured, teasing, emboldened by the way his eyes darkened.

He raised a brow, tilting his head. “Thought you said you were thinking about this all night. You want me to stop you now?”

Hurriedly, you pushed his jacket off of his shoulders, abandoning it on the floor. “No, sir.”

His breath caught at the title, and a low sound escaped him - half groan, half growl - as his hands rested on your hips and backed you toward your bed.

When your legs hit the mattress, he paused, cupping your face with startling gentleness. “You’re sure about this?”

You nodded, pulling at his tie to bring him closer. 

“Need to hear you say it,” he murmured in your ear. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Aaron,” you whimpered. “Been sure since the moment I saw you tonight.”

He kissed you then - hungrier than the times before. Clothes were lost in the heat of mouths and hands, slow at first, then hurried, desperate. He laid you down, every touch reverent, worshipful, like he needed to relearn what it felt like to be wanted.

“This what you were thinking about?” he questioned against your skin as he kissed his way down your chest. Down the valley of your breasts. His teeth teasingly grazing your nipple. 

You tangled your fingers in his hair desperately, gasping. “This - and more.”

He looked up at you, lips parted, eyes storm-dark. “Good. Because I’m not stopping until you forget anyone else ever existed.”

A gasp left your lips as his hand pushed your legs open, his body fitting perfectly between. Your hips bucked up towards his in anticipation, your fingers threading themselves into his hair. You could feel all of him. He was hard, ready, and completely focused on you. 

“Aaron,” you whispered, already breathless. 

He groaned against your neck. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

“I think I’m starting to,” you teased, your voice shaking. 

That earned a low, rough, chuckle. His mouth found the edge of your jaw, his stubble scraping just enough to make you shiver. 

“I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long,” he said. “Every time you smiled at me in the briefing room, every time you said my name,” 

His voice trailed off, replaced with a groan before his lips reconnected with yours. His hands were all over your body. 

You pulled back just enough to look at him. Seeing his chest rising hard, his hair astray from your fingers, his lips were flushed and parted. You’d never seen him like this. Unrestrained. And it was for, and because of, you. 

You wished you could take a picture to cherish forever.

“Tell me to stop,” he said suddenly, sitting up and away from your body to better look at your face. “If you’re not sure,”

You quickly silenced him with a kiss. “I’m sure. God, I’m so sure, Aaron.”

That was all he needed. 

He slotted his body over yours once again, pinning your wrists to either side of your head. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve thought of you since you first walked into my office to interview,” he muttered against your skin, trailing kisses down your neck, over your collarbone. “I used to hate myself for it. You were my escape.”

“And now?” you whispered, arching into him.

“Now you’re mine,” he groaned. 

Hotch’s hands roamed your body like he was rediscovering something precious. Every curve, every sound you made under his touch, he committed to memory. In case this was the last time. His only opportunity. 

You knew it wouldn’t be the last.

His breath was hot against your skin, his voice low and reverent. “It was so hard to stay away from you.”

Your fingers trailed down his bare back, your nails lightly digging into his skin. “Then don’t hold back. Please. I don’t want you to,” you begged. 

That did something to him. His hands tightened at your waist, his grip firm. Possessive. It was as though he had to remind himself that you were real, here, his. 

You felt his fingers at your core. Running through your wetness. Eliciting loud moans from you. His name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“Aaron,” you whimpered.

Hotch stilled for half a second at the sound of his name on your tongue. So soft. So full of trust. So needy. 

“What do you want?” he asked, his eyes locked with yours as you watched him move downwards on your body.

“Need you. Please, Aaron,” you begged. Impatiently, you began pushing his head towards your core, a loud gasp filling the room when you felt his fingers push into you.

It felt like you were dreaming. Years of tension finally breaking open. 

His mouth eagerly met your cunt, his tongue parting your folds. He began slowly. Testing the waters, seeing how your body responded.

His fingers were still pumping you, increasing in speed at the sound of your moans and the involuntary bucks of your hips. 

His other hand reached upwards, resting gently on your lower stomach, stilling your movements.

Soon, his mouth has fallen into a rhythm. Devouring you. As though he was starving, and nothing had ever tasted so sweet. Your hands were tangled in his hair, his name the only coherent thing you can say. 

Your thighs began to shake violently as you felll apart. 

He didn’t stop until you began squirming, slightly pushing him away. 

Hotch sat himself up. His hands rested on your knees, his face covered in your arousal. The back of his hand lifted to wipe his mouth. 

You blushed, unable to meet his gaze. 

His hand gently lifts your chin upwards. Forcing your eyes to lock with his.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, leaning down and kissing you. 

“Need you in me,” you beg. “Please.”

“So polite. Such a good girl.”

A whimper fell from your lips at the name. 

You watch as he began pumping his length. Preparing himself for you. Without a second thought, your hand reaches forward, replacing his with your own. Like a moth drawn to a flame. Low groans fell from his lips when you took over - pumping him slowly from the base of his cock to the tip. 

“You’re so big. Can’t wait for you to fill me up.”

His movements were quick. Gently pushing your hand away, he began guiding himself into your cunt. You felt the tip of his cock entering, his eyes darting to your face to see how you were doing. 

With a nod from you, he began pushing his cock in more, continuing to slowly ease his way in. 

Loud moans echoed throughout the room when he’d completely filled you up. His movements stilled, waiting for your permission before he did anything further. 

“Aaron, please,” you whined. Your hands gripped his biceps, squeezing them gently. 

A smile broke out onto his face. He loved seeing you like this. Completely submissive to him. So needy. Entirely his. 

And then he was moving. A deep roll of his hips drew a gasp from the both of you. Your body arched into him, your mouth parting with a soft moan that only spurred him on. 

His pace quickened. Every thrust was a declaration. I’m here. I choose you. I want you. 

“You feel like home,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours, voice cracking slightly. “God, you feel like home.”

Your heart swelled, eyes fluttering open to meet his. 

The world narrowed to this. To his body moving with yours. To your moans tangled together in the quiet. To his hand slipping into your hair, tangling his fingers in it. Anchoring you to him. 

You came first - your second orgasm of the night stronger than the first. You clutched onto him tightly, burying your face in his neck as a cry of pleasure left you. He followed soon after, breaking apart with a groan so deep and guttural that it made your entire body shiver. 

Hotch collapsed against you, breathing hard, lips brushing your cheek as he whispered, “I’m not letting you go.”

You smiled against his skin, heart full and aching. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

[gemrambles]

no way that was your first post. i am in awe of you.

SOBBING. you are the sweetest ever. thank you so much <3

[gemrambles]

Are You Convinced? - A.H

summary: hotch has been feeling insecure about his new body, and you notice and are determined to convince him how attracted to him you are.

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: NSFW, MDNI!, unprotected p in v sex,

wc: 1,670

The bedroom was quiet, the only sound being the soft rustle of your book pages being turned. You were curled up on your side of the bed.

Your heart practically skipped a beat when you heard the familiar sound of the front door unlocking. 

Footsteps padded in with practiced quiet - careful and deliberate. Not out of secrecy, but habit. He never wanted to disturb you, as though you weren’t eagerly waiting for him. You could hear the muffled thud of his bag hitting the floor.

“Hi, love” you called softly, eyes brightening upon seeing Aaron step into the doorway of your shared bedroom. 

His tie was already loosened, collar undone. His hair was tousled, likely from the tiring drive home after a drawn out case. He looked exhausted, yes - but he looked so handsome. Your heart warmed. His presence felt like home. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, his voice low and hoarse from the day. 

“You didn’t. I was just reading.” You explained, closing the book. 

Aaron gave you a faint smile - tip-lipped and tired - and walked toward the dresser. He paused in front of it, fingers hovering at the buttons of his shirt, before turning his back to you and starting to undo them. 

That was new. 

You watched him, your brow furrowed as you saw the subtle tension in his shoulders. He was slow - methodical. He was being careful. Guarded. As if he was waiting for you to look away. Hoping that your attention would return to your discarded book. 

It didn’t. 

Instead, you shifted on the bed, sitting up and crawling across the bed towards him. 

“Aaron,” you murmured. “Come here.” 

He stilled for half a second, glancing toward you over his shoulder. He hesitated, shirt halfway off. 

“I need to change, sweetheart.” 

A soft smile appeared on your face, “I know. Come here anyway.”

With a breath through his nose, he turned. His chest was partially exposed, the hem resting over the swell of his stomach. A subtle shift from the rigid frame he’d had years ago, back when he’d practically lived on caffeine and adrenaline. Now, he was broader. Thicker through the middle. Softer, somehow. His shirts fit a bit tighter these days. 

And you loved it. He was utterly beautiful. Irresistible. 

You slid yourself off of the bed, walking towards his body that leaned against the dresser, dropping to your knees in front of him, your hands coming up to rest gently on his thick thighs. “You’ve been avoiding changing in front of me,” you whispered. 

He looked away, jaw ticking. “That’s not true.”

“Aaron,” you sighed. Not of annoyance, but concern. 

You watched as he let out a breath, his eyes falling shut for a beat. Then, finally, he met your gaze again. “I just…” his voice dropped even lower. “I’ve noticed the way things fit lately. Shirts, pants. I didn’t want you to…” he swallowed, voice trailing off. “I’m not the same.” He finished.

Your heart ached. You let out a soft, sympathetic hum before your hands moved carefully upwards, gently undoing the last few buttons of his shirt. 

Pushing the fabric of the shirt away from the front of his body, your fingers began tracing the curve of his stomach. Your touches were so gentle - like handling something precious. 

You leaned in and pressed a kiss just beneath his sternum, gradually moving lower, to the soft skin over his stomach. You could feel him slightly tremble beneath your lips.

“I love this,” you whispered between kisses. “I love you. You’re strong, you’re steady, and you still make me blush like we just met.” 

He let out a soft, choked laugh, and you looked up at him with a warm smile.

“You are so handsome, Aaron,” you said. “Every time you walk into a room, I have to remind myself to breathe.”

Your hands reached for the buckle of his belt, teasingly undoing it as your kisses continued to litter his body. 

“You think I don’t notice the way you fill out your shirts now?” you murmured against his skin. “I love it.” 

He let out a groan - low and broken - his eyes fluttering shut. His arms instinctively braced themselves against the dresser behind him. 

You slowly pulled his pants down, watching as they pooled at his ankles. 

“I love all of you, Aaron,” you whispered. Your voice was thick with need. “I love this stomach you try to hide. I love the weight of you on top of me.”

Another groan left his lips, one hand threading itself into your hair. His chest rose and fell in a shaky rhythm, anticipating your next move. 

“You’re so fucking handsome,” you murmured, brushing your lips against the underside of his cock through his boxers. You felt him twitch. Heard the deep moan that slipped from his mouth. “So big. Fill me up so good.”

He sucked in a breath, watching you intently. 

Gently, you pulled his cock out from his boxers, slowly pumping his length in your hand. “I love this body. Every part of it.”

His hand tightened in your hair.

Slowly, you licked a stripe along his shaft - length to tip - watching as his eyes fluttered shut. His hips bucked forward, eliciting a small apology to slip from his lips. 

With a final kiss to his tip, you took him into your mouth, using your hand to pump whatever you couldn’t fit. 

You worked slowly, deliberately. Letting him feel every part - the flat of your tongue, the way your hand wrapped around the base and followed every movement. Your eyes never left his face. 

And Aaron - your guarded, painfully controlled Aaron - was unraveling. 

He looked down at you in awe. A raw, barely-contained moan slipped from his lips as he watched your cheeks hollow around him. 

“That mouth,” he groaned. “Jesus Christ…”

You moaned around his cock in response.

“Stop,” he rasped suddenly, hand gently tugging you back. “If you don’t, this’ll be over before I get to feel you.”

With a soft pop, you released his cock. Your lips were slick, eyes wide and adoring. 

“Then take me to bed, Agent Hotchner,” you purred, voice warm and teasing. “Let me really show you how obsessed I am.”

His lips twitched into a small smirk, before he leaned down and lifted you into his arms, laying you down on the bed gently, his body quickly hovering above yours.

You cupped his face, bringing him down to you, kissing him like you needed him to feel just how much you meant it. His weight pressed into you - strong, warm, safe - and you could feel his cock hard and heavy, brushing against your inner thigh.

Your legs instinctively parted, wrapping around his waist.

“Please, Aaron. I need you,” you begged, your fingers running through his hair.

Aaron reached between you, guiding himself to your entrance, before gently sliding his cock inside.

A gasp fell from your mouth, your head falling back against the pillows, and your back arching into him. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You feel…like heaven.”

His thrusts were slow, measured. Like he was worshipping you. Every roll of his hips pressing you deeper into the mattress. 

“I love you,” you moaned out. Your hands touching every part of his body that you could reach. “Every single part of you.”

“You’re so tight,” he murmured, panting. “So wet, baby. You’re gonna kill me.”

You whimpered loudly beneath him, nails digging into his biceps.

“Harder,” you begged. “Please, Aaron.”

A low growl came from his throat, his pace shifting - faster and deeper. His hips snapping into your more urgently. 

He kissed you as he fucked you - on your mouth, your jaw, your neck. Whispered praises between every thrust.

Your legs tightened around his waist as your cries of pleasure filled the room. 

“I’m close,” you gasped. “Aaron, I’m gonna -”

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, reaching down between your bodies, his thick fingers circling your clit. “Let go for me, sweetheart.”

Your whole body clenched around him as you finished, shaking and gasping - his name fell from your lips in soft whimpers. 

He lost it. 

His rhythm stuttered. His face was buried in your neck as he groaned your name in pleasure repeatedly, his cum filling your cunt. 

His breathing slowed as the aftershocks faded, his body still pressed over yours - warm and heavy and real. You ran your fingers lazily through his hair, your chest still rising and falling beneath his.

He lifted his head just enough to look at you, his eyes hazy, but so full of emotion it made your throat tighten. There was awe in them. Gratitude. Maybe even disbelief.

You smiled, a little smug, a little breathless.

“So,” you murmured, brushing his damp hair off his forehead, “was that convincing enough?”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Convincing?”

You tilted your head playfully, lips curving up in a soft smirk, “You know. That I still find you ridiculously attractive. Or do I need to go again to make my point?”

That earned a soft chuckle from him - low and quiet, but warm. His hand slid up your side, grounding himself. 

“I’m starting to believe you,” he murmured, eyes flicking down to your mouth.

You leaned up slightly, whispering against his lips, “Good. Because I wasn’t exactly being subtle.” His lips brushed yours, and for a moment, the teasing quieted, replaced by something slower. Deeper.

Then he pulled back just enough to look at you fully - still hovering over you, one hand cradling your cheek, the other tracing lazy circles over your waist. 

“You’re too good to me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t deserve you.” Gently, you rolled your eyes, nudging his nose with yours. “Aaron. You’re brilliant, thoughtful, unbelievably good in bed, and have a body I can’t keep my hands off of. I definitely got the better end of the deal.” He huffed out a breath - part disbelieving, part utterly undone by you. 

And with that, he kissed you again - slow, deep, and endlessly grateful.