#i love triathlon

[coelura]

Hayden Wilde (silver) and Alex Yee (gold) celebrate at the finish line of the men's Olympic triathlon, Jul. 31, 2024.

[ghost-biird]

Started training for a triathlon today from like absolute zero (haven’t consistently exercised since literally high school) and my first run went way better than expected! I’m starting with a 14:35 mile and I could actually run for a minute straight and I didn’t think I would be able to!

[baronessblixen]

I went to see the women’s cycling race today because they passed in my neighborhood in Paris it was really cool because i couldn’t see any games here lol! It was so moving the way everybody was cheering them up.

That is so cool! I watched it on TV and there were so many people, same as yesterday at the men's race - and the women's was more interesting with Evenepoel winning with like a minute to spare. So happy for you that you got to experience this live! I always find it so moving, too, and I think it really helps the athletes.

[scorpiomindfuck]

I've only ever seen gifs of the part where Hotch trains for the triathlon and

EXCUSE ME SIR

No one told me he looked this good

Like he looks good in the gifs but HA

I had to pause and replay this first moment, geez

[blackbunnyblobchara]

Just recently watched Under Paris

And I gotta say….This is one of the movies that actually made me cry while hating a lot of characters because of their insensitive unplanned decisions…For great and obvious example…Freaking Mika and the overly selfish mayor

[ssahotchnerr]

I hope you meant it to be dropped here 🥺

So, about jealous Y/n: I had been thinking about this after seeing the episode where Beth (that runner-woman?) appears. I thought about the scene, with "y/n" either getting to know he was handed a paper with a number

Or maybe Aaron and "y/n" had been running together and Beth approaches without any care and reader just is like: 🤨 watching the interaction, lol

knowing you

🤭 cw; JEALOUS fem bau!reader, teasing banter (hehe r and aaron are sooo in love), suggestion/sex allusions (i'm blushing), based off of aaron and beth's first interaction in 7x10 wc; 1.3k

"Okay, okay." You panted, coming to a stop. You directed your voice forward, loud enough for Aaron to hear you, a few feet ahead. You resumed walking, slowly, hands on your hips. "Let's take a breather, yeah?"

"What's wrong?" Aaron asked as he met you halfway, a teasing smirk growing on his face. "Can't keep up?"

"I can keep up jus' fine." You insisted, still catching your breath. The afternoon breeze blew into your face, cooling the sheer layer of sweat that had collected. "Just... not for a prolonged amount of time. There's a," Another staggered breath, "difference."

"Is there?" He asked humorously. His chest rose up and down, regulating his own breathing as well. "I can easily go another mile or two.

"Fantastic. I'm so happy for you." You quipped sarcastically, causing him to laugh and a smile of your own pulling at your lips. "And that's why you're the one participating in the triathlon. Not me."

"You know..." He began proposing in a light tone of voice, eyebrows raised wittingly. "There's still time for you to sign up."

"You know, you're funny." You bantered back, a pained expression pulling onto your face at the mere thought. You shook your head, "I think my time is better spent cheering you on from the sidelines, along with the others. And then reviving you afterwards."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckled, a fondness in his eyes. All banter aside, he switched tactics, softening to a sweet sincereness. "I appreciate you accompanying me. Seriously. You know you don't have to run with me, although you do inspire me to persistent. Gotta impress you, keep you interested."

"Please, as if there's anything you could do to cause me to become uninterested." You poked a finger at his chest. "And if running means I get to spend an extra hour with you, I'll gladly accept. Besides, there's something in it for me too. Makes it all worth it."

"And what's that?"

You looked around, spotting a park vendor supplying drinks, playfully brushing his question aside. "Want a water?"

The warm glint in his eyes lingered, admirably amused. One that read: you were the most difficult person he'd ever met, but he wouldn't have it any other way. "Sure, sweetheart."

"I'll grab it," you began walking, "You stay here. Catch your breath."

Aaron grabbed your hand the moment you had stepped a foot away, smoothly drawing you back with just an equally suave grin. Once in reach, he placed his lips onto yours, interrupting your growing smile.

Your nose scrunched when the two of you parted, "You're all sweaty."

"That's never been a problem before." His smirk returned, the wet cowlicks draped over his forehead bringing a multitude of images to come to mind.

This is why you ran with him. You'd never deprive yourself the hot visual, one you'd never get tired of. The overexertion, the sweat, the defined athletic wear clinging onto his body, the heavy breathing too.

You playfully rolled your eyes, granting him another kiss before you trailed off. You steadied your breathing again, in attempt to slow your heart rate a second time.

Retrieving the waters couldn't have taken you more than five minutes: waiting in a small line, supplying cash, issuing a thank you. But when you turned back towards Aaron, your feet already moving to their own accord, you stopped short - suddenly. As he wasn't alone.

He was talking to some woman - brunette, in workout clothes of her own. Her backside was facing you, so you couldn't see any specific features; to determine who she was, a familiar face or not.

You tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation of jealousy filling your body, drawing the conclusion that she wasn't an old friend rather quickly. It started from the bottom of your stomach, crawling up your spine, spreading widely to your limbs.

Could it be harmless? Sure, that's what you were telling yourself, until the woman in question handed him a small piece of paper. She began to retreat - finally - causing a breath of relief to escape you, until Aaron calls after her.

When she turns, you're able to see her face. She’s cute, all smiles and outwardly confident. She responds to whatever he said, follows it with a laugh, before continuing her jog. 

You bit your lip, returning to Aaron with a bit more urgency, your ponytail gliding swiftly between your shoulder blades.

"Here," You handed Aaron his water, your gaze moving past him and continuing to watch her leave. As if she can feel your stare, she looks back. Your eyes may have been playing tricks on you, but you could've sworn she gave you a cunning smirk.

Your jaw clenched, nothing but that red-hot jealousy overtaking you. It blocks out all of your surroundings - Aaron's going on about something, but you don't hear him. He's muted, fuzzy, far away. You don't realize he's talking to you until he says your name, with a tad more volume.

You startle, blinking, "Sorry, what?"

"I said, do you want to go again? Or we can take a slow, evenly-paced walk back." His lips turned upwards humorously, taking a drink. "More your speed."

He's attempting to resume the ongoing, fun banter to draw your focus elsewhere, knowing you.

"Who was that?"

"Oh, nobody." He shrugged, securing the cap. "She just, er, handed me this." He explained carefully, holding up a small piece of paper.

He did it quickly; again, making it as nonchalant as possible. But even at the heightened speed you're able to see her number scrawled across the surface.

You immediately impede forward-

"Sweetheart," Just as he expected - he grabs your arm, holding you back from any impending confrontation you were set on.

"She gave you her number?" You looked at him, perplexed. The audacity. "Did you see the way she looked at me? She probably saw us kiss and yet-"

"I know, I know." He comforted, his voice a deep contrast compared to yours, hardening the more you spoke. He can practically feel you vibrating in fury. "Hey, it's okay. I'm discarding it, of course." He crumbled it in his fist, "Have zero need for it."

"But that doesn't excuse what she just did." You try to look past him again, but he uses his body to shield your view. "And I don't like it. Not at all."

"You're right, it doesn't, but it's okay." Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead, muttering his next sentence into your skin. "I'm yours. Nothing changes that."

"Damn right you are," you huffed, crossing your arms. Despite the distance (she's almost long gone by now), you're at the ready to grab Aaron, to kiss him fiercely if she ever so lightly takes a peek back.

"Forget about it, and I don't mean that in a dismissive way. Look at me when I say this," He tossed the paper in the nearby trash, grabbing ahold of your shoulders instead. "I'm uninterested. Unfazed. Utterly in love with you and greatly anticipating showing you how much once we're in the privacy of home. Preferably in the shower, and then again in bed afterwards."

He manages to pry a smile out of you, a blush forming at your cheeks, although it doesn't dissolve your pout just yet. "But..."

"But what?" He asked gently as he releases his hold, swiping his thumb across your cheek soothingly.

"What if she can run faster than me." You mumbled pitifully. You said so half jokingly, half seriously.

Aaron laughed warmly, spanning an arm over your shoulders and pulling you directly to his chest. "I highly doubt that."

"You promise?"

"With every ounce of me."

[reidology13]

Reader goes to the triathlon w Jack and everyone's like 'omg is this ur gf' and he's like nooo this is my babysitter but they're like doing heart eyes the whole time and she's being rly cute w Jack and the whole team is like shipping them xoxoxoxoxoxo

you really got a hold on me

Aaron Hotchner x fem babysitter!reader

cw: age gap, canon typical lack of boundaries??? fluff, fluff, and more fluff wc: 1.6k a/n: this is my first req, which is a little bit terrifying, I hope it lives up to your expectations! I moved the triathlon so Jack's still around 4/5 just bc my girl has been pining for years and I don't want to stretch that out too much <3

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You kept Jack close, hands on his shoulders to keep him from disappearing into the crowd, although you knew he would be unlikely to stray from your side either way. People had started crossing the finish line about half an hour ago, and your best guess was that Aaron would cross it any second now. You were correct, as it would happen, and a few minutes later he appeared in the stampede, sweat-covered and grinning as his eyes locked on yours.

“Jack, look!” You crouched down beside the boy, pointing in the direction of his father, jogging towards the finish line.

“Daddy!” He cheered, and you whooped as he crossed the line, starting to slow down as he made his way to the table with water and medals.

Once he had navigated a route out of the crowd, you walked with Jack over to him, waving to try and catch his attention again now that you were both in different places. He met your gaze, walking to you, breath heaving.

“Hey, bud.” He leant down to hug Jack, picking him up and swinging him around before placing him back down and turning to you.

“You did amazing.” You smiled up at him, almost in awe, and he did something completely unexpected, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you into him, “Get off me! You’re all gross and sweaty.”

“Never.” You didn’t put up a fight.

“Should we leave you two love bugs alone?” A familiar voice rang out, and he released you, allowing the blonde to enter your field of vision.

“Garcia.” He said slowly, that stern, stoic mask slipping into place over his handsome features, and you couldn’t help but ogle when he looked like that. There was something about it, the way it set into the sharp lines of his jaw, suiting his strong facial features so perfectly. 

“Sorry, sir.” She said, although you had a feeling she wasn’t apologetic in the slightest, mainly from the broad grin spread across her face that promised trouble.

And then the pack descended.

A wolf whistle, “Hello, gorgeous. You the lady our man’s been seeing?”

“Um, no, I’m not-” You tried to clear up the obvious miscommunication, fueled by Penelope’s meddling, but you were interrupted, this time by a female voice.

“If he ever hurts you, feel free to call me.” She winked, and you felt your cheeks grow warm, becoming more embarrassed by the second.

“No, we’re really not-” Apparently, Aaron’s entire team had a thing for not listening, no wonder he was so tired all the time.

“Way to go, Aaron, but isn’t she a little young?” You rolled your eyes at that.

“I’m standing right here, you know.” You looked up at him, silently begging him to get his team in line.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” They went silent, and you breathed out a sigh of relief, leaning into him as you realised he still had an arm around you.

“I’m Jack’s babysitter.” You introduced yourself to each of the group, besides Penelope. You wished JJ was there, but she’d had a baby roughly a week ago, marathons weren’t exactly her mood right now.

You decide that you liked Jordan and Spencer the most, because they had stayed quiet while the rest of the team teased you about your nonexistent relationship. Once everything quieted down, and the novelty of you had expired enough for them to turn their attention to food, you turned to Aaron. You realised that in all of the excitement—first of the race, then the team—that you hadn’t really gotten to speak to him.

“Hi.” You beamed, feeling awkward after the team’s fast paced attack of moments earlier, worse because part of you wished it was true. Scratch that, every single bone, muscle, ligament, every cell in your body, wished it was true.

“Hi.” He smiled back, and you were completely oblivious to how you were just standing there, staring at him and his stupidly handsome features, until a pointed cough broke through your daze. You weren’t sure you liked Spencer anymore. The rest of the team’s eyes shot to you immediately, and you knew you were never going to hear the end of it.

“Aaron, can we go? I don’t like these people.” You groaned, the second part mostly joining. Mostly.

“Anything for you. Jack, are you okay with celebrating at home?” He tugged the boy’s hand lightly to capture his attention, and Jack nodded, smiling as wide as ever, entirely unbothered by the change of plans.

“I’ll make your favourite.” You grinned up at him, “And we can buy ice cream on the way home.”

“Are you sure you’re not dating?” Emily piped up, and you glared at her, taking a step away from Aaron, as if to prove a point.

“I’m very sure.”

“She’s half my age, Prentiss.” 

“Okay, I’m not half your age, please, you make me sound like a baby.” You scoffed.

“No, of course you’re not, I just happen to be very old.” He rubbed your shoulder gently in a silent apology.

“You’re only thirty-eight, Aaron.”

“Aww, you even fight like a couple.”

“Please stop, he pays me to be here. I would rather not lose half my paycheck for fleeing right now.” Technically, he wasn’t paying you for this, the outing with Jack was completely voluntary, which had nothing to do with Aaron post-run. Absolutely nothing.

“Oh, so it’s a sugar daddy thing?” She smirked.

“It’s a babysitter thing.”

“Okay, let’s go.” He grabbed you by the arm, commandeering you away from the group, and you heard a few loud comments about manhandling, as well as the word ‘daddy’ thrown around fairly liberally. “I’m sorry about them, they’re incorrigible.” He murmured against your ear, giving your arm a squeeze.

“It’s okay, I didn’t mind it.” He looked like he was about to say something, but before he could, Jack piped up, calling your name, “Yeah, bud?”

“I wanna hold your hand, too.” You could have cried, standing right there in the parking lot, only a few feet from the car.

“Oh, of course.” You and Aaron rearranged Jack so that he stood in between you, each of you holding one of his hands.

“I’m hungry.”

“Me too, buddy.”

“It might take me a bit too long to cook…” You trailed off, swinging Jack’s arm, “There’s a great barbeque spot about ten minutes from here?”

“Sounds great, Jack, what do you think?”

“Yes.” He seemed very sure for someone you were pretty certain had no idea what a barbeque was. Aaron loved to use the grill when he had the chance, and yet no matter how many times the word was said, Jack would still be surprised at dinner. You figured he would pick it up in a year or two.

You reached the car, helping Jack into the child car seat in the back as Aaron slid into the driver’s seat, turning on the ignition. Once Jack was safely secured, you circled around the back of the car and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Do you know the directions? Aaron turned to look at you, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

“I think so.” You nodded as he pulled out of the parking space, the way he turned his head to double check the space behind the car made the tendons pop out from under the skin of his neck.

You did your best to direct him, although you missed one or two turns, courtesy of Aaron’s side profile looking a little too good. It took about ten minutes longer than it should have to pull up in the parking lot of the restaurant, and the sheen of sweat that had covered his skin had dried by the time you walked in. You were seated in a booth next to a window, and Jack insisted on sitting on your lap until the food arrived. You helped him with his restaurant-branded colouring page, a drawing of a pig cooking sausages on a grill, which was rather grim to anyone over the age of eight.

After lunch, Aaron drove you back to your campus, parking outside your dorm building. You hopped out of the car, walking around to the other side to hug Jack goodbye, then turned to the driver’s door. Aaron rolled down the window, and you leant against the windowsill on your forearms to talk to him.

“Did lunch live up to your expectations?”

“I preferred the company.” 

“So, I guess I’m never getting to choose where we eat again…” You pouted, trying to distract yourself from the warmth that blossomed in your chest at his words, at how casually he could say something so disastrous. 

“Of course you can, it was wonderful.” But you were better. He reached out, one of his hands gently running down your upper arm as he spoke, and maybe that was why you did what you did next.

“Thank you for the ride,” You smiled at him, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. You stood there, leaning into the car, and time seemed to slow in a moment where everything was perfect. You stepped back, and reality crashed over you like a wave, a lump in your throat as you stumbled away from him.

“Have a good day.” He waved, and you nodded, licking your lips nervously, tasting the salt of his skin on your lips.

“You too.” You waved back at him, walking backwards from the car, “And shower! You taste like sweat!” You called out, hands cupped to your face to project your voice as you got further away from him, choking on your words.

He shook his head, an amused grin gracing his face as he pulled the car away from the sidewalk. You stood there, like a love stricken schoolgirl who’d just had her first kiss during a game of spin the bottle. 

Life changing.

Inconsequential.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

tysm for reading!!

Tags: @reidmoony-toast @selmasdaydreams - Comment to be added <3

[gf2bellamy]

Hey remember that one scene in s7 where spencer suggests watching over Henry so the girls can go on a night out it's such a shame we didn't get to see what the girls did for them to show up this hungover so I was wondering if you could please write something about bau!reader going on with girls and spencer taking care of her after hotch finish running the triathlon

triathlon — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader has a hangover and a headache, mention of painkillers a/n: hi hi ! i hope you like this <3 i love this scene so much jj's "why are you yelling" always makes me laugh

"I'm too hungover for this."

You groaned, resting your forehead against the metal railing in an attempt to block out the harsh daylight. The sun was relentless, and every sound around you felt ten times louder than it should have.

Currently, you were standing next to your boyfriend, Spencer, and your equally suffering teammates—JJ, Emily, and Penelope. The three of you were dressed identically: oversized sweaters, big sunglasses, and the kind of posture that screamed I regret all of my life choices.

Spencer, on the other hand, looked obnoxiously bright-eyed and cheerful. He was waving a small flag enthusiastically, cheering with way too much energy for someone who had spent the night not drinking.

You barely lifted your head, pushing your sunglasses up just enough to squint at him.

He caught your look immediately and grinned, lowering his flag slightly. “Couple hours, couple hours,” he mocked, quoting the very words you and the girls had reassured him with over the phone last night.

You groaned, turning your head back toward the railing. “You guys didn’t come home until sunrise,” he added knowingly, his gaze flicking toward JJ, Emily, and Penelope, who all groaned in agreement.

“No comment,” you muttered.

Spencer poked your arm lightly. “I was worried about you.”

You barely moved, your head still heavy with regret.

“Why are you yelling?” JJ groaned, mirroring your position against the railing.

“Yeah, make your boyfriend stop,” Emily muttered, barely able to function.

“Spencer, you heard them,” you mumbled, waving a limp hand in his direction, though you knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

Suddenly, Rossi’s voice rang out over the crowd, far too loud for your fragile state. “Hotch is here!”

You lifted your head, blinking blearily as you watched your boss approaching the finish line.

Spencer, of course, was cheering louder than ever.

You, on the other hand, simply smiled in approval. That was about as much enthusiasm as you could manage.

“Come on,” Spencer said, reaching for your hand.

You sighed dramatically but let him pull you forward, weaving through the crowd toward the water station where Hotch was being greeted by his son, Jack, who ran up to him with a beaming smile.

The sight was heartwarming, even in your current barely alive state.

“See?” Spencer murmured, squeezing your hand as you both watched the scene unfold. “Totally worth getting out of bed for.”

You hummed, tilting your head up to glance at him. “Debatable.”

Spencer just chuckled, squeezing your fingers again before kissing the top of your head.

As Hotch and Jack walked over to greet a woman, you lazily pushed your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose, attempting to get a better look. But, to be honest, your curiosity was no match for the pounding in your skull.

Your body protested against every movement, and before you could even think too hard about it, a loud yawn escaped your lips. Without a second thought, you slumped against Spencer, letting him bear some of your weight.

He looked down at you, assessing your pathetic state with amused concern.

“We should get you home,” he murmured, his hand lightly rubbing your arm.

“Yes, please,” you sighed dramatically, feeling like the words alone had drained the last bit of your energy.

Five minutes later, after saying half-hearted goodbyes to everyone (JJ and Emily looked just as desperate to leave as you did), you were finally in the passenger seat of Spencer’s car. You let out a long breath, sinking into the seat, feeling more at peace than you had all morning.

Spencer started the car, glancing at you before asking, “Do you want to get some food before we go home?”

Your head lolled against the seat as you turned to him, eyes still hidden behind your oversized sunglasses.

“Oh, yes please,” you groaned, already daydreaming about greasy, carb-heavy food that would hopefully bring you back to life.

Spencer chuckled under his breath as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I had a feeling that would be your answer.”

“You know me so well,” you mumbled, closing your eyes.

A few minutes of silence passed before you peeked one eye open. “Are you judging me?”

“Not at all,” he said, but the grin on his face said otherwise.

“You so are,” you accused, pointing a lazy finger at him. “Just because you woke up feeling fresh and ready to cheer at a marathon—”

“I wasn’t cheering at you,” he interjected, though he was clearly enjoying himself.

“Still,” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “I think you should be suffering with me. It’s only fair.”

Spencer smirked. “I did offer to come pick you up last night. But someone insisted that she and her ‘drinking dream team’ could make it home just fine.”

You groaned, leaning your head against the window. “That does sound like something I’d say.”

He reached over, giving your knee a small squeeze. “Alright, hang tight. Greasy food incoming.”

You let out a content sigh, closing your eyes again. “This is why I love you.”

Spencer chuckled. “Because I enable your bad decisions?”

“Because you fix them,” you corrected.

He just shook his head fondly, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other resting lightly against your knee as he drove.

Another 30 minutes later, you were sprawled out on the couch, full, content, and finally beginning to feel human again.

“I am never drinking again,” you declared dramatically, reaching for the painkiller Spencer handed you, along with a glass of water.

Spencer sat down next to you, watching as you downed the pill and chugged the water in record time.

“We both know you’re lying,” he said, deadpan.

You glared at him over the rim of the glass before setting it down on the coffee table with an exaggerated sigh. “Wow. No faith in me whatsoever.”

“None,” he agreed, reaching for the blanket draped over the back of the couch. He unfolded it and threw it over both of you.

You turned toward him, shifting until you could slump against his side, your cheek pressing into the soft fabric of his sweater. He was warm, which only made you burrow closer.

Spencer huffed out a quiet laugh, his arm instinctively wrapping around you. “You’re ridiculously clingy when you’re hungover.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you mumbled, closing your eyes.

“It’s not,” he admitted, his hand idly tracing patterns against your arm. “It’s just… amusing. You spent all morning acting like I was personally responsible for your headache, and now you’re using me as a human pillow.”

You peeked up at him, a sleepy smirk on your lips. “Well, you were yelling.”

“I was cheering,” he corrected.

“Same thing.”

Spencer rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned back against the couch, his fingers still lazily moving against your skin. The steady, rhythmic motion was lulling you into an almost dreamlike state.

A comfortable silence stretched between you until Spencer spoke again, his voice softer this time. “Did you have fun last night?”

You hummed in response. “Mhm. Until this morning.”

“Maybe next time, I should come with you,” he mused.

You snorted. “You? At a bar with us?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What? You don’t think I can handle it?”

“Oh, no, I know you can’t handle it,” you teased, grinning up at him. “You’d be reciting alcohol poisoning statistics before we even finished our first round.”

Spencer opened his mouth, then promptly shut it, clearly realizing you were 100% right.

“Fine,” he admitted. “But someone has to make sure you actually get home before sunrise.”

You sighed, nuzzling further into his chest. “I like how you just accept that I’m going to do it again.”

He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. “I’ve learned to pick my battles.”

You grinned against his sweater. “Smart man.”

Spencer chuckled, tightening his hold around you as you let the exhaustion of the day finally catch up to you.

Yeah, you’d probably do it all over again. But at least you’d always have Spencer to bring you home.

[ssa-dado]

The Hotch apartment we deserved, in a reality where the CM team recognized he’s a human being with taste and actually put effort into his living space

(Pictures absolutely taken by me, definitely not from Pinterest)

Now, to make this more accurate, just mentally replace every picture with either a painting of a boat (the man loves his boats, boats are his autistic obsession - no shame, Aaron, they’re very cool) or his family photos.

Unfortunately, the kitchen and bathrooms here either looked like they came straight out of a cheap Home Depot catalog or were stolen from Rossi’s mansion - I did my best. That said, I know for a fact the man has a sink with a ton of storage underneath, packed with all his hair products especially my curly hair stuff and my huge-ass diffuser

Anyway, the defining features here are dark wood, high contrast in the living spaces (please ignore the offensively cheap ceiling lamps in the sixth pic), and most likely a more muted, moody atmosphere in the private areas. Traditional decor mixed with modern accent touches (my personal rule is that if he chooses to go modern, it has to be designer). A mix-and-match approach that prioritizes both practicality and aesthetics (no shit Sherlock.)

(And yes, I know he has the comfiest couch in the world. Not just because he’s a serial couch napper, but also because I don’t own a couch, so at the very least, I want him to be happy.)

And lastly… Hotch absolutely seems like the type of man with a creaky bedframe. The kind of creaky where, if you… train for the triathlon there, the bed frame drowns out everything else - way more than the sound of skin-on-skin or any... uhm... vocal performances. But hey, that’s just my theory.

[feeder86]

Guy and a Gain...Again!

“Fancy doing this with me?” Guy asked his housemate, holding up an advertisement for a triathlon in the Spring.

Baz winced slightly. He was certainly a very fit man, but there was no point in trying to compare his athleticism with the likes of Guy. Guy was an absolute machine; his body a temple; a testament to years of tireless dedication and training. “Nah…” he replied with a sigh. “It’s right around the time of Lucy’s birthday. She’ll probably want to do something special.”

Guy nodded and resisted the urge to complain. Baz had been so much more fun before he got with Lucy. Soon it would be just like all the rest of his old friends: engagements, weddings and children. How boring! In Guy’s opinion, it was always far better to keep things casual and pursue your own interests in life, rather than getting tied down. He’d only fallen in love once, and that hadn’t exactly ended well. The only person he could ever truly rely on was himself.

“That’s fine,” Guy smiled. “I think they do another one later in June.”

Baz shook his head. “No thanks, Buddy.”

Guy sighed as he watched his housemate disappear into his bedroom. It wasn’t that Guy needed any help paying the mortgage on this condo; he’d sweet talked his way up to quite a level of seniority in his job and was always looking about for the next jump into something better. No, Guy had always had a housemate for the simple fact that he hated being there on his own. He craved interaction and the glory days, when he lived in the college dorms, with plenty of people about, at all times of the day.

Despite how messy and occasionally disorganised Guy had been in college, his apartment was a perfect utopia of minimalistic calm. He excitedly plumped up the sofa cushion and set some frozen pizzas to heat up in the oven as his buddies Christian and Harry were back in town for the night. He’d met them years ago, back when he was still seeing Mikey, his best friend in college. With Mikey’s interest in gaining weight, the pair of them had visited a few feedism events in their time; with Guy picking up more than a few friends that he still kept in touch with.

“Look at you!” Guy swooned, seeing Harry as he strolled in, belly first. He’d gone softer and jigglier, purposefully bouncing as he walked as if to emphasise it further.

“I’m up 45lbs since you last saw me,” he boasted, kissing Guy on his cheek. “I’m only fifteen away from the big four hundred!”

“Impressive!” Guy laughed. There was just something so joyful about the way guys like him shamelessly enjoyed their bodies. He didn’t care what anyone said - it was a definite turn-on.

Sloping in behind Harry was his feeder boyfriend, Christian. Usually stick thin and trendy, he appeared that day to be more than a little bloated. A thickness had begun to encircle his waist and his handsome face had puffed up with a doughiness that was surprisingly distracting.

“What happened to you?” Guy teased, patting Christian on his under-exercised butt and failing to find the tightness he was used to. “All the feeding finally got the better of you, huh?”

Giant Harry turned around, smirking. “His fast metabolism crashed,” he explained, failing to hold back a chuckle. “Ten pounds was all it took and his little dick was craving more and more blubber.”

Guy laughed and looked over his buddy, Christian. When he’d met him a few years ago, he’d been one of the kinkiest and least compromising feeders Guy had ever come across. He’d taken chubby Harry and poured gallons and gallons of fattening shakes down his throat until he’d swelled into the rounded blob that he was today. Yet, now look at him; his kinks turning inwards. “What is it about you feeders?” Guy asked, full of disbelief for what had become of Christian. “It’s like you all have some sort of expiration date before you start going all soft.”

Christian shrugged. “What can I say?” he smiled. “It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever done,” he nodded, raising his t-shirt a little to reveal the swollen, pot bellied middle on him.

“Jeez!” Guy marvelled, having never imagined such a thing on the boy before. “Look at that!”

“That’s not all,” Harry grinned, stepping around Christian and pulling back his lover’s sweatpants to uncover the top half of his broad butt and lifting his shirt up from the back.

Guy couldn’t help but laugh when he saw what Harry was showing him. He reached out and stroked the skin where Christian had had a brand new tattoo of a small pig tale inked onto his body. “You boys are such kinky little fuckers!” he marveled, instantly getting an erection.

“I wanted something that would ensure there was no going back,” Christian explained, equally aroused to be leaning forward and showing this off to Guy.

“And how do you feel about this?” Guy asked Harry. He had always been the submissive one in the relationship, despite seeming to enjoy a slightly more empowered status at present.

“I love it!” Harry laughed, grabbing a full roll of blubber from Christian’s side and jiggling it. “I’m going to triple every pound he put on me, sending it straight back onto him!”

Guy grinned, his eyes dancing with delight. He simply loved the kinky talk between these two. He always had. They knew exactly who they were, and were proud to embrace it.

An hour later, the three boys were lying in Guy’s supersized bed. Sweat pouring off them, pizza and crumbs filled the bed sheets as Guy lay back with the two chubs resting their heads on his broad shoulders. It had been the first time Christain had wanted to be fucked by him and, although he had made a valiant effort, he’d found Guy’s size too challenging to take. Instead, Harry had stepped up, bending over beautifully whilst a horny Chritain gorged his chubby face on everything available as he watched.

“Do you ever hear from Mikey these days?” Harry asked.

Guy sighed at the mention of Mikey’s name, but it hurt a lot less than it used to. “Not for a few years now,” he answered. It had been his own fault. He had been the one to stop replying to messages and never picking up the phone. However, he’d needed to step away for his own mental health. It didn’t do to dwell on a lost love.

“You should see him now,” Harry laughed, handing over his cell phone with a clear picture of Mikey from his gainer socials: enormously fat, rounded and bursting with lard. “He’s well over five hundred pounds these days.”

Guy studied the picture with awe. There was the boy he had once adored, now consumed by his own hunger and lust for fat; his neck a distant memory, his arms giant sacks of blubber. 

“Good for him!” Guy smiled fondly, remembering the skinny boy he had once fooled around with. “This is exactly the sort of shape he always wanted.”

“You should come with us to the gainer evening tomorrow,” Christian suggested just as Guy handed back the cell phone. 

Guy chuckled at the idea. “I haven’t been to one of those in years.”

“You do like gainers though,” Harry smiled, noticing that Guy’s hardness had been resurrected after seeing Mikey’s picture.

“My dick likes a lot of stuff,” Guy simply replied. “Body confidence most of all.” But as the boys talked and talked, he was gradually persuaded, agreeing to meet them there the next evening after his date with a girl from his gym.

Upon arriving past midnight, Guy left his shirt with the bartender, setting about to flirt and enjoy the attention of all the fat men who were ogling him. The gainer scene had come a long way since he’d last been out. The pot-bellied boys had been replaced by extreme superchubs with at least one scrawny-looking feeder under their giant arms. Guy flirted and played with them all, happy to indulge their fat kinks. Yet, there was one younger man, standing to the side who kept catching his attention: tall, handsome, with strong, rounded shoulders and a slim waist. Throughout the early hours of the morning he stood alone, watching from the sidelines, nursing a beer and not getting involved. 

Perhaps the gainer scene had become more insular and harder to break into as an outsider, Guy thought to himself. It wasn’t a problem that Guy had personally. Harry and Christian could both vouch for him, and his strapping body caught the attention of any he didn’t yet know. Guy, it could be said, had never been shy. Even as a non-drinker, he never failed to insert himself, front and center, into any social event.

“So, what brings you here?” Guy asked, heading over to the handsome boy and introducing himself, seeing as no one else seemed to be making an effort.

The man stood up a little straighter, as if on high alert. He shifted his feet and passed his beer from one hand to the other, looking as if he was unsure whether to give his real name or not. “Dillon,” he finally offered. “And… Oh… I don’t know…I was just curious,” he mumbled, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to come and speak to him, let alone ask him why he was there.

Guy smiled, finding the awkwardness surprisingly cute. If the boy was here, at this gainer event, there was going to be something kinky about him; something just waiting to be unlocked. “Have you slept with many fat boys, Dillon?” he asked, knowing his forward question would continue to make the boy squirm with such amusing awkwardness.

Dillon shook his head. “No… I’ve… I’ve not long been out of a relationship.”

Guy nodded knowingly. “Ah, so now the shackles are off and you’re free to explore?” he laughed, feeling like he was getting somewhere at last.”Well, if you’re looking for a good fatty to fuck, I can highly recommend that one over there,” he pointed. “Just shy of three hundred pounds, growing fast and as kinky as they come. Want me to introduce you?”

Dillon shook his head quickly. “No, no… that’s okay,” he shot back shyly.

Again, Guy grinned, knowing that he still hadn’t quite hit upon the reason why such a conventionally good looking boy was there that evening. “Or… if you want…” he offered slowly and teasingly, “...I could introduce you to some good feeders,” he smiled, giving Dillon’s flat stomach a little pat.

Dillon stared back at him with wide, wondrous and almost childlike eyes. Bingo! There it was: the real reason Dillon had come along that night. 

“So, how long have you wanted to be a porker?” Guy rolled on, deciding to take it all in his stride. Of all the arousing conversations he had had that night, nothing had turned him on like this. There was just something so exciting about finding genuinely fresh meat in this scene.

“What makes you think I want to get fat?” Dillon asked, giving Guy more eye contact than he had managed before.

“Hmm, let me see!” Guy smiled “The little bulge in your pants when I mentioned it. The slightly higher pitch of your voice just now,” he shot back at him, chuckling.

Dillon looked around the room and back to Guy. “Do you think anyone else knows?” he asked shyly.

Guy laughed once again and swept his large arm over Dillon’s shoulders. “Well, you just told the biggest blabbermouth in the room, so… yeah, pretty soon everyone is going to know that you want to be a little lardass too!” he teased. He looked at the boy up and down and smiled. “You’ve really never told anyone before, have you?”

Dillon shook his head once more. Then he followed without question as Guy led him out of the venue and into a cab, heading back to his apartment. His prize, secret catch for the evening.

Guy awoke the next morning with Dillon lying on his front next to him, still naked and splayed. As Guy had teased him about his gainer kinks, the boy had seemed to submit more and more; sucking him off with excellent skills and finally bending over and letting Guy fuck him without reservations.

“Morning, Sleepy Head!” Guy teased as the boy rolled over and realised he was waking up in a stranger’s bed.

Dillon looked at Guy, clearly piecing everything back together from the night before. “I can’t believe we did all that last night,” he chuckled.

“I can,” Guy smirked back. He’d inserted his dick so deeply into Dillon’s butt after making him down a protein shake, he almost panicked when the boy came; so intense and extreme was his moaning. “So…” he began playfully, leaning on his side and looking directly into Dillon’s eyes, “...Is today the start of a whole new era for you?”

“What do you mean?” Dillon replie/d.

“Well, you said last night you’d never even been with a guy before, let alone had your gainer kinks indulged like that.” He smirked, remembering just how hard he had gotten Dillon. His erection had been like concrete. “I know you can talk the talk when it comes to letting go and getting fat, but do you really have what it takes?”

Already, Dillon’s dick was starting to levitate and stiffen.”Oh, I have no worries there,” he nodded. “I love food. What turns me on is the idea of being able to eat whatever I want, whenever I want it.”

“Genuine greed,” Guy smiled knowingly.

Dillon nodded once again. “I mean, being fed by someone to the point of being absolutely stuffed just doesn’t appeal to me as much as the idea of just…”

“Letting go,” Guy finished for him. The idea was appealing, especially for Guy who had never been much of a feeder himself. He’d tried several times in the past to pretend that forcing food down a gainer’s throat turned him on. However, the reality had always been that he didn’t have the patience for it. Fattening, for him, was something a gainer should do in their own time. He only wanted to enjoy the horniness that derived from the evolving transformation. Not that he had ever come across a gainer who felt that way.

Dillon had had to grab and tug at his hardness. “Letting go,” he repeated. “That’s exactly it!”

Guy smiled, watching the lust taking over the pretty boy. “You know your job as a gardener will have to go, don’t you?” he asked. “If you want to grow your ass, you’re going to need something where you can sit down on it throughout the day.”

“You think I should quit my job?” Dillon asked, turned on that Guy had even remembered how he earned his living.

“Of course I do,” Guy chuckled back, still just watching as Dillon’s fantastic arousal sent him to higher and higher levels of submission to his kink. “Trust me, as a guy who has fucked so many fatties in my time, letting go is more than just eating. It’s about letting that entire softening process take over your body. Laziness. Lethargy.”

Dillon was tugging at himself at a faster rate than ever as Guy spoke. “I’m going to hand in my notice first thing tomorrow morning,” he declared, seeming to get closer to climaxing as the words left his mouth. “I’m actually going to do this!”

“Good boy!” Guy grinned, watching the kink consuming Dillon and sending him into a frenzy of lust. He didn’t even flinch as Dillon squealed and ejaculated all over the bedsheets in every direction. How fucking sexy! That shy, quiet guy back in the club now making a great mess and freeing his secret desires. There was simply nothing better.

Guy could have kicked himself for not giving Dillon his real number when he left. At least, he certainly thought that’s what he had done. It was a force of habit. As the weeks went on, he often thought back to Dillon, wondering what had become of him. There was no doubt in Guy’s mind that his date that night wouldn’t have actually started gaining. He was too pretty and far too reserved outside of the bedroom to actually do that to himself. Still, his kinkiness for it had given Guy a boner more than once when he’d thought back to their night together.

Months had gone by before Guy saw Dillon again. He’d actually been on a date with a girl from his new gym when he’d spotted Dillon working behind the bar at the club he had taken her to. He’d recognised the handsome face right away, but his breath caught in his chest when he took in the boy’s body. The fattening had clearly started. Dressed in a smart white shirt, the cheap material clung to the emerging love handles that puffed themselves over the tight waistband of Dillon’s pants. An overall thickness had spread into his stomach and chest, whilst a slight padding appeared to have amassed itself under his chin. It was a decent forty pound gain if ever Guy had seen one; no added muscle, just clear laziness and overindulgence.

Guy sat his date at a table and headed straight over to the bar, losing all interest in anything else. As he approached, he witnessed Dillon at the bar, turning around to the ice bucket and observed the beauty of his swollen glutes, rounded and bulbous, without taking on the complete broadness that came with the obesity that could come later. Having not been with any other men since their night together, Guy’s mind was able to return to the memory their night with ease; picturing those small, tight little glutes as they had been. Now his dick felt more alive than it had all evening, and when Dillon turned to serve him, Guy only had one question: “What time do you finish tonight?”

Dillon laughed and raised an eyebrow. “What about your date over there?” he asked, pointing across the room. He’d clearly spotted Guy from the moment he’d entered the bar.

Guy looked back as well. His date was pretty and surprisingly intelligent, judging by their conversations that evening. But it wasn’t her he wanted to take home that night. He turned back to Dillon and simply repeated his question.

Dillon seemed to consider it for a second. “Midnight,” he simply replied, knowing that Guy would be waiting outside to pick him up as soon as the clock struck twelve.

Getting rid of Guy’s date had been easy. He’d simply dialled back to flirtation and acted as a gentleman, taking her home with only a sweet kiss on her doorstep. Making her wait for a second date for anything more would only guarantee that she would be more eager next time.

“Well, well, well…” Guy grinned, leaning against the roof of his sports car as he witnessed an almost chubby-looking Dillon strolling out of the bar later that night. “Look at you!”

Dillon smiled and rubbed at his torso, seeing that they were going to bypass all the usual pleasantries. “I’m getting there,” he nodded. “It’s all just very slow. I feel like I should be bigger than this by now.”

Guy rocked his head to the side, inviting Dillon to climb into his car. Then the pair of them set off.

“I need to stop for something to eat first,” Dillon pointed, highlighting a fast food place only a few yards down the street.

Guy resisted sighing. He’d been waiting to get his hands on that bigger butt for some time. Now he had to wait whilst Dillon did the typically boring gainer stuffing? Nonetheless, he dutifully pulled over and followed the guy inside. He noticed a couple of the guys nodding at each other with a smirk at the sight of Dillon, as if they knew him all too well as a fixture around here. Then one attendant went to the cash register, bracing himself against it, as if preparing for something quite extreme from Dillon.

“Good evening,” he smiled dutifully. “What’ll it be tonight?”

A greedy little tongue slipped very subtly out of Dillon’s mouth, moistening his lips and he swallowed at the smell of everything cooking behind the counter. He began listing off a great number of items with ease that made Guy realise just how long they were going to be stuck here.

“Anything for you, Sir?” the young worker asked, seeming to know that everything that had come before it would be consumed entirely by Dillon.

Guy declined. He never ate at these sorts of places, but dutifully paid with his card, much like he would do with any of his dates. A great mountain of food began piling up on the tray and the two men soon retreated to a quiet table in the corner so that Guy could wait for Dillon to gorge himself.

“I see you quit the gardening job,” Guy smiled, appreciating how handsome Dillon looked in a shirt.

Dillon nodded; his eyes only on his food as he began throwing fries and nuggets into his mouth. “You were right. It was the perfect first step. I needed to cut the excessive calorie expenditure, day-to-day.”

Although Guy had come across more than a few gainers in his time, none of them had set about eating in the way that Dillon did. The boy seemed genuinely hungry, attacking the food in a cold and almost calculating manner, as if to ensure it was consumed in the most rapid way possible. He didn’t care that his mouth was sometimes full as he replied to their conversation, and he didn’t whimper with submission or lust as he started the third and then fourth burger. Nothing about the scenario was in any way theatrical, making this, by anyone’s standards, an act of pure greed. A chubby boy who simply loved his food.

“So that’s how I came to work at the bar,” Dillon finished fifteen minutes later, wiping his mouth with a napkin and sighing with relief as his stomach bloated more than ever before. “Are you ready to leave?” he asked, not even pausing to burp or appreciate his immense gluttony.

Unpeeling Dillon from his tight clothes that night had been one of the most erotic things Guy had done in years. A plush layer of fat had spread across the boy’s body, but pooled especially well in his love handles, chest and stomach. Guy growled with lust as he saw those doughy glutes and the pair set to pleasuring each other as if they had an expertise on how to make the other moan with lust.

Falling asleep with a hand resting on Dillon’s hip, Guy had felt more content than he had in quite some time. However, he awoke a couple of hours later, noticing that his date had slipped out unnoticed. He got up, pulling his underwear back on, just in case his roommate was sleeping there that night, even though he doubted that would be the case. Then he strolled into the living space hearing the sound of crunching over by the counter and the hunched silhouette of Dillion, sitting at a bar stool. He’d helped himself to a large bowl of sugary cereal that definitely didn’t belong to Guy and was busy munching away.

“It’s three in the morning!” Guy whispered, coming up behind the chubby boy, slipping his hands around his torso and kissing him on the side of his neck. “What are you doing up?”

Dillon chewed and swallowed. “I always get hungry at night,” he explained. “When I was growing up, my parents taught me to just ignore it. They said it wasn’t good for me to eat in the middle of the night. Now I don’t need to worry about that.”

Guy chuckled, nuzzling into Dillon even more and rubbing his protruding stomach. The more stories like this he heard, the more he realised that Dillon hah always been a fat boy, trapped in the body of a thin person. Slouched as he was now, his stomach fat seemed even more developed than Guy had realised, with his buttery nipples beginning to balloon and sag every so slightly onto the shelf below.

“Has anyone played with your tits yet?” Guy asked, beginning to massage them as Dillon resumed his eating. He’d remembered gainers telling him in the past how sensitive the nipples became as boys fattened up; he’d made more than one fatty climax simply by playing with them in the same way he would stimulate all the girls he had slept with.

Dillon moaned a little and twitched with stimulation. Guy could tell he’d never experienced anything like it before; perhaps not even realised that he had been developing such an erogenous zone. “That feels really nice,” he sighed, leaning back into Guy’s muscular chest.

“You wait until I have even more fat to play with here,” Guy teased. “If you think this feels good now…”

Dillon sighed with contentment at the idea. One thing was for certain: there was no way he was leaving without Guy’s real number that time.

“I want you to meet, Dillon,” Guy smiled, moving out of the way so that he could push Dillon forward. It had been a good few months since the last gainer event where Dillon had failed to make an impression. It was the reason why Guy had cleared his diary to make sure he could take him to this next one; holding his hand as they walked in.

Like a piece of meat, the eyes of all the men went up and down Dillon’s body. Guy stood back with pride. The boy’s love handles and protrusive stomach were some of his greatest features, but his butt too had developed a mass to it that was anything but athletic. However, more than anything else, the ring of freshly shaved fat that was starting to wrap itself under Dillon’s chin was undoubtedly the finest achievement of all. This wasn’t just a chubby boy they were dealing with; this was a true fat-boy glutton.

They hadn’t believed Guy when he’d explained how quickly Dillon had packed on his now eighty pounds of excess blubber, but the angry looking stretch marks surrounding Dillon’s belly button had gone some way to convincing them that he hadn’t just made it all up. Although he and Dillon were not officially an item at this event, Guy stuck close to him, feeling oddly protective. Usually, at events like these, Guy would have pulled his shirt off and enjoyed as much attention for his strapping body as possible. However, that night was all about Dillon and getting him connected with as many in the scene as possible.

Guy looked around seeing how many of the gainers and admirers were checking Dillon out; his handsome face and doughy body that seemed to cry out that this was a recent and rapid weight gain. Guy wanted them to look and see for themselves,but then another emotion began creeping in as well. Dillon was his discovery. He was the one who had helped him unleash the gainer and the one with a dominant hand on that big, wide rear. Why should anyone else feel they had a chance with him?

“So, how was it?” Guy asked afterwards, leading the way back to his car and secretly glad to be getting out of there’ especially after Dillon had told him he wanted to leave and get some food instead.

“Pretty great,” Dillon smiled, hopping into the passenger seat. “There were some very tight clothes on show though.”

Guy nodded. Dillon wasn’t the type to advertise his weight gain with figure hugging t-shirts or pants. “Well, some guys just like to show off,” he explained diplomatically. “Wearing tight clothes makes them feel even bigger and fatter than they are.”

Dillon nodded, noting some appeal in it. “But it’s just a fact of life,” he shrugged. “You overeat and your clothes get too small. What’s the big deal?”

“Oh, really?” Guy laughed. “Just a fact of life, huh? Maybe I’ll say that to you next time I notice your dick getting even shorter,” he teased, having witnessed Dillon squirting everywhere even at the mere mention of the groin fat that was starting to take off down there. He leaned in and kissed the fat boy, letting his large hand slide down the protrusive tummy and in-between his legs. There it was, the ever shrinking hardness, ready to go yet again.

“A point well made,” Dillon smirked back in surrender.

Guy smiled and started the engine. He’d stop off at a fast food place and buy a load of stuff for Dillon to gorge himself on as he drove home. It was one of the things Guy liked best about him; Dillon didn’t need or want him forcing the food down his throat. He was more than capable of feeding his ravenous appetite himself. All Guy needed to do was place a gentle, encouraging hand on his thigh every now and then as he drove. Then, once they made it home, Dillon would be more than stuffed and wound up like a tightly coiled spring, bursting with arousal and more than ready to head straight to the bedroom with him.

“Who are you messaging?” Guy asked a few months later as he came in with a tray of breakfast pastries for his lover.

“No one,” shrugged Dillon, hastily dropping his cell phone in favor of the food.

Guy felt a little uncomfortable. It was a new feeling to him, this gnawing sense of jealousy. He’d first noticed it at the last gainer event they went to, and it had plagued his mind ever since. It was a selfish impulse, he reasoned. He himself had certainly got around with multiple people since he had started seeing Dillon. They were in no way exclusive and neither of them had ever expressed an interest in being so. So why did Guy have to fight back an unreasonable urge to check Dillon’s phone as the chub trotted off to the bathroom?

“I love having you here,” Guy whispered into Dillon’s ear as the pair still lay in bed, even as lunchtime approached. He had his hand draped over Dillon’s chubby belly and he rocked it, full of admiration for how much the guy had transformed himself in the last eighteen months. “How about you stay here tonight as well? We could watch a movie, order in some pizzas….”

“I can’t,” Dillon replied straight away. “I’m meeting up with a friend.”

Guy nodded. “Nice!” he smiled, knowing that he wasn’t supposed to pry. He didn’t have the right to feel the strange jealousy that had swept over him. “Are you up to something fun?”

Dillon nodded. “He’s going to teach me how to boost my capacity with pizza,” he chuckled, patting his large, padded stomach.

Guy nodded and pulled his lips back into a false smile, as if this all didn’t bother him, especially seeing Dillon getting aroused by just the idea of what was to come. “You’ve got to eat like a five hundred pound fatty if you hope to become one!” he nodded, repeating one of Dillon’s favorite mantras back to him whilst rubbing the boy’s rounded stomach.

Although the opportunity to work in London had been something Guy had wanted ever since he had joined his company, the month-long placement couldn’t have come at a worse time in his eyes. As Dillon became more involved with other gainers, Guy felt like he was less important in the man’s life. He was also going to be away when Dillon finally started his new office job and disliked the thought of missing out on such an important step in his lover’s life.

The girls in London had a sexy, alluring sophistication about them. However, no matter how many of them he bedded, Guy’s mind kept thinking of Dillon. He felt utterly smitten, messaging him as much as he could, always eager for updates.

Guy had been a victim of his own success. Everyone loved him in London, declaring that they had never come across anyone so capable of taking over the world of business. The project he had started at work began to take on a life of its own, building incredible momentum. He remembered the bittersweet feeling when he realised he was going to be away far longer than the original month he had planned. However, by the end of the fourth month, Guy knew that the scheme was ready to be handed over; with plenty of scope for him to implement similar changes back home. 

With a week off from work after getting back, Guy headed straight over to see Dillon. He carried with him a large bag filled with treats and presents from London and was excited to see how the fattening man was going to react to them all. He knocked on the apartment door, his breath catching in his throat with anticipation.

Suddenly, Dillon was standing there looking remarkably changed. The fat under his neck had swollen immensely, giving Dillon one of the largest double chins he’d seen on a gainer of his size in quite some time. His beautiful eyes had seemed smaller, as large, puffy cheeks dominated his face and his plump, kissable lips now looked like the gateway to a greedy, gluttonous mouth that would consume anything it came across.

The pair hugged and kissed; Guy’s hands roaming across all areas of the remarkably fatter and softer body. Lard had spilled into areas where Guy had never seen it before. Dillon spun around and posed for him, excited by his own remarkable transformation. With a desk job, the gainer’s glutes had seemed to shed all remaining muscle and bloat with pure blubber. He wanted it touched, handled and jiggled, directing an already aroused Guy on how best to experience the new softness. Three hundred and eighty pounds had never seemed so erotic when the person carrying it all loved it so much.

“I was half expecting you to have gained a few pounds after working so hard in London all those months,” Dillon chuckled, gazing upon the immortal physical perfection of Guy; unchanged. 

Guy slipped off his underwear and delighted in taking the kinky boy into his bedroom for a session he would never forget.

Being intimate with Dillon had cemented the feelings Guy had had during their separation. He was in love with him; utterly and completely: the easy way they communicated, the confidence with which they both held their vastly contrasting bodies. Dillon was touched by the gifts and how much Guy had remembered about his tastes and interests. Guy held him sweetly as the both drifted off to sleep.

“I’ve been thinking,” Guy began, feeling decidedly nervous later that night. “I want to talk to you about something.”

“So do I…” Dillon smiled back, acting as if he knew exactly what Guy was going to say.

“I know you’re doing so well with your weight gain now,” Guy smiled, unable to resist rubbing the fattened gut in appreciation; marvelling at the sagging nipples that had bounced and jumped the entire time Guy had been fucking him. “Your next milestone is so close. But, how would you feel about hitting four hundred… in London?”

“In London?” Dillon parroted back in surprise.

“They made me quite the lucrative offer before I left. I don’t have to take it, of course, but… come on! Don’t you think it would be so exciting?” he cheered, smiling brightly. “You and me, living in London together? All those restaurants and famous landmarks? I thought of all the places I want to take you. You can grow enormous there. I can give you everything you want. You don’t even need to work, given how much they want to pay me.”

“Guy, this is...” Dillon mumbled, overwhelmed.

“I know, I know… this is huge! But these last four months without you…” he sighed, remembering how utterly miserable he’d been at times. He’d only felt this way about one other person in his life, and he had lost out because he had never managed to build up the courage to say how he felt. Not this time…

“Yeah, it was a long time,” Dillon agreed, unprepared for what Guy was about to say to him next.

“I’m in love with you!” Guy blurted, staring deeply into Dillon’s eyes and wrapping his large hands around his bloated face.

Dillon was stunned into silence. “Guy.. that’s amazing… that’s…” he stumbled. 

“You don’t feel the same way…” Guy sighed in stark realisation.

“Well, it’s not as black and white as that…” Dillon mumbled on, clearly trying to catch his brain up with his mouth. “I think it could really work, us living together in London. I really do! But I have so much going on here now. I’m having so much fun supporting other gainers. You not being around gave me time to really lean in hard to all this. It’s the reason why I already broke my desk chair at work,” he chuckled, mentioning it for the third time since Guy had arrived.

“You didn’t miss me?” Guy shot back, feeling like his heart was about to be shattered.

“I did!” Dillon replied unconvincingly. “I was just…” he rambled, still figuring out what he wanted to say. He sighed deeply. “If I’m honest… I was just a little disappointed that you didn’t come back from London a little heavier than when you left.”

Guy looked down at his flat, chiselled stomach. “What?” he blasted.

“I’ve wanted you to gain weight for the longest time. I thought, the more we hung out together, the more likely it would be for my bad habits to rub off on you.”

Guy sat back a little, rethinking everything he thought he knew about Dillon.

“I’m not the only one,” Dillon marched on. “All the gainers we’ve met together say the same thing. We all can’t wait for you to give up the gym and start pushing out a gut.”

“Is that so?” Guy huffed back.

“It’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You’d look so fucking hot! You’ve got the build for it. If we moved to London, I could make you huge!”

Guy stood up and started dressing, suddenly realising how badly he had misread his relationship with Dillon. “Gaining is your thing, not mine,” he explained calmly. “I like the way I look and I fell for you because I loved giving you the sort of confidence that I feel in my own skin.”

“But, trust me… when you start putting on your first few pounds…” Dillon retorted, like an all-knowing sage.

“It’s not me!” Guy shot back, cutting him short. “And you’d know that had you been paying any attention at all to me over the last couple of years.” He felt a sudden surge of annoyance. “Tell me… where did I grow up? What’s my middle name? When’s my birthday? Where did I go to college?”

Dillon looked blankly back. He really didn’t remember the answer to any of those questions. And so he watched as Dillon slipped his shirt on, then made his way out of the apartment for the last time.

“Jeff…” Guy said down the phone the moment he made it down the stairs. “I’m sorry to call when it’s so early in the morning there. I wanted to tell you that I’ve thought about your offer…” he explained.

Guy took a breath. This was a huge decision that would change everything.

“I accept,” he stated with absolute certainty. “How soon do you want me back in London?”

[luveline]

omg i loved the loopy wisdom teeth one w peter 😭😭 can i get that with hotch, and reader, who's usually more reserved starts flirting with him and stuff while she's loopy

ty!! and ty for ur request ♡ fem, 1.2k

"Most people have their wisdom teeth out in their teens," Aaron had said before you went in, a Spencer Reid tidbit if there ever were one. 

"I'm a special case," you'd said, accepting his kiss on the cheek but denying his half hug. "See you in a bit." 

People often lament that Aaron's ended up with a  woman so much like himself. You must make each other miserable, one ill-advised chancellor had said, to your amusement. 

We're desperately unhappy, you'd said back. 

The opposite is true. You and Aaron, or Aaron alone, at the very least, is as happy as he's ever been. Work is hard but manageable, Jack is well-tempered, growing smarter and kinder each day, and you're his sweetheart. You're reserved, a little solemn, but you understand him better than anyone ever has. It's a relief like no other to be known so well. 

And so he has zero qualms looking after you for the rest of your lives. He waits patiently for you to come out of surgery, arms behind his head in the empty waiting room. He's worried about you. This isn't a painless procedure. 

Footsteps echo down the hallway, but you announce yourself anyways in the doorway. "Handsome!" you say, a lisp to your happy sing-song, "I'm back." 

Aaron doesn't know what to say. He giggles like a kid at your sudden demeanour and sits up properly. "Honey." 

You wobble with the nurse at your back, prompting him onto his feet to take over. "You should remove the gauze in about half an hour when the bleeding has completely stopped. Clean daily with saline, there are instructions in the bag," the nurse says, offering Aaron a white prescription bag. "Okay?" 

"That's perfect. Thank you so much," he says, taking your hand. 

"You're perfect," you say, looking up at Aaron with stars in your eyes. 

The nurse laughs softly as she leaves. Aaron doesn't bother hiding his amusement, grinning at you as he puts his hand between your shoulders to guide you to the front of the building. 

It's busier here. Reception is hectic. Aaron puts his arm more firmly around you to stop people from bumping into you and you again look at him with your starry eyed gaze. "You're very tall," you say. 

"I am," he says. "Though you joke occasionally that I'm shrinking." 

"The only thing getting smaller is your waist," you say, poking at his abdomen, "my champion." 

You're referring to his recent third triathlon success. He's no record setter, but it keeps him active and happy in the summer months, and he can't pretend you don't appreciate the additional definition of his muscle during this time. You like him every month of the year, of course, but with his trim waist comes a certain amount of energy you also appreciate. 

"Completely inappropriate behaviour," he says lightly, waving a short goodbye to the receptionists as he holds open the door for you to pass by. "Next you'll be enacting PDA." 

"You'd like that, huh?" 

Hard to take any notice of you with gauze fluffing your words, and again, he laughs at you. "I'd love that." 

"Well, wait, I'll do it right here–" 

Aaron catches your hands mildly. "In the car first. Kiss after." Your downtrodden expression requires urgent care. "What, that's not okay? You're upset?" 

"No," you lie obviously, glaring down at your feet as you wobble forward. 

"Maybe we can wait until later, then." 

"What?" You gawp. "You just said in the car." 

"I'm teasing you," he says, taking your elbow. "We've been known to do that with one another on occasion. You know I'd happily kiss you anywhere you wanted to be kissed, honey, now watch your step on this curb. Watch your step. Good job." 

You're extremely pleased by his praise, leaning into his arm with your head tipped back. "You're so handsome. Can you kiss me now?" You soften your eyes. 

Alright, you have a little bit of bloody dribble on your bottom lip, and yes, there's this dazed look about you like you've had a mean shock, but you never look at him like this day to day. Perhaps in your more intimate moments, your arms around him when the lights are low, or early, early in the morning when you haven't yet remembered your more timid temperament. But it's so rare. It catches him off guard, how pretty and wanting you look. 

Aaron leans down for a careful kiss, the barest of pressure. 

"And a good kisser," you murmur, turning into his chest for a hug. "I love you, I want you to carry me to the car." 

"Sweetheart, I don't think I can," he says. He's mostly kidding in the depth of his apology, but there are real threads of remorse in his voice, hot as a flame. "Come on. We'll go home, okay?" 

"But you always do everything for me. Everything I ask for." You talk into his chest, likely leaving pink spit on the grey of his quarter zip. He couldn't care less, his arm around you, looking down with equal measures of fondness and surprise. "I had to stop saying I liked things because you kept buying me stuff. I love stuff." 

"Then why did you stop?" he asks quietly. 

"'Cos I know I don't deserve it. Don't deserve you, Aaron, you're the best man I've ever met. Can't believe it."

He savours your mumbling, and begins to walk forward slowly, encouraging you out of his chest as he formulates an answer for your confession with the same gravity. "You can't believe it?" 

"You're a tall glass of water." 

He actually sighs aloud. My girl, he thinks, rubbing your lax shoulder. "Alright. What if I thought the same of you? What then?" 

You giggle infectiously, a stickying sound like you know he's trying to trip you up. "Nice," you say. "We should always be like this." 

When he brings it up later, the extreme effects of your anaesthesia dissipated and your pain revamped, you can't think of anything worse. "I'm mortified," you whisper, your ice pack chilling the top of his arm where you've wedged it, your hand tucked between his thighs in an attempt to stay warm. 

"I quite liked it." 

"You would. You used to flirt with me so aggressively–" 

"Aggressively," he repeats, grinning. 

"–you're lucky I survived it." You sniffle, rubbing your nose into his sleeve. "Was I as intimidating as you are?" 

He presses his lips to the top of your head, not kissing, just there. "No," he says into your skin, "you weren't intimidating at all. Just lovely. It made my day." 

"I'll have to have my teeth taken out more often." 

He snorts. "If you'd rather have more teeth pulled than flirt with me unaided, things are worse than I thought." 

"Don't be like that..." Much quieter, "Will you rub my back again, please?"

Just like that, he's reminded of how much he likes your regular reserved attitude. "Sure, honey. Lean forward."

[latenightreadingpdf]

Criminal Minds Fic Recs

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Navigation ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Platonic!BAU

Cases and Candies Sweet Pea

Spencer Reid

Clingy Fell in Love Copycat   Part 2 The Receptionist Nice to Meet Ya Exchanging Gifts Too Clingy My Good Luck Charm   Part 2 A Case of the Sleepies Serendipitous Korean Film Festival Study Buddies Swooping In Double Vision in a Rose Blush Sugar, Honey, Iced Tea A Real Head Scratcher Withdrawal Emergency Contact Rose-Tinted Glasses Reuniting Magic Hands Don't Think I Don't Like You The Boy Next Door Regrets Sting She Blinded Me With Science Fugitive Affections Friends to Lovers Birthday Boy Kids Table

Aaron Hotchner

Pure Intentions Like Dad Does Something Exhilarating Sleep Snuggler Monday Hugs Momma Bear Never Let You Go FBI Triathlon Suit Jacket Pure Intentions Love Letters

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[nouearth]

baby-sitting for miguel o'hara. (part ii)

miguel o'hara x m!reader headcanons.

part i.

warnings: smut, perverted!miguel, top!miguel, soft!miguel at times!!, bottom!male reader, small!male reader, thoughts of sex, fantasy!sex, masturbation, humping, kinda domestic idk.

notes: it's been a long time coming. 💀 i honestly was struggling to find like a plot for the second part, or just how to move forward. lmao. but i hope this turned out okay???

—never again, miguel promised himself that night. 

—it had been a few weeks since he last jerked off to your briefs. the blue undergarment that he came into were thrown somewhere under his bed, far from his reach.

—and as tempting as it was to smell you again, he mustered up the courage to leave the stained fabric alone. 

—for good.

—miguel despised what he had become.

—settling his sex life on a lone piece of fabric, it was pathetic. 

—from dusk til dawn, you participated in a triathlon of his delirious state of mind and competed for several awards that would then be mediated by miguel. 

—had it been a real competition, he would’ve been fired for exhibiting extreme favoritism because you’d win all the trophies and medals.

—a ‘helping hand’ award he would award you a few mornings ago, where he jerked off to the thought of you giving him a handjob during his lunch break.

—multiple ‘most improved’ awards for when you were able to throat his cock a little more than before.

—and another for when your ass was able to take miguel in without needing to pause or adjust for his size, even if the strain of your facial expressions told a different story.

—gagging in between moans, coughing out thick globs of spit, wincing in bittersweet pain when he pushed in, arching in complete pleasure when he pushed out.

—he loved the idea of watching and hearing you struggle because of his cock.

—though, it was only until recently when he began feeling a strong sense of guilt for portraying you in such a manner.

—it was a promotion at work that allowed his hours to be more flexible than before, and miguel utilized that to the fullest by spending every waking second with his daughter.

—and you.

—even when he came home early, he never sent you home.

—maybe it was the perfect opportunity to get one step closer into your pants.

—or maybe he wanted to get to know the babysitter that gabriella had taken an extreme liking to.

—get to know the babysitter that had somehow made miguel feel something more than simply lust.

—you hungry? you haven’t taken your eyes off of your thesis paper since i got here.

—hm...?

—that night, you’d look up at him with those bright eyes, that bright smile that latched onto miguel’s adam apple and made it hard for him to swallow. 

—it was as radiant as the first time he saw you. one wouldn’t be able to tell that you’ve been pulling all-nighters for the past few weeks.

—oh! i guess i’m a little hungry. i haven’t eaten since breakfast—

—breakfast? i told you that you could rummage through the pantries, right? you practically live here at this point.

—i know, i know! once i get in the zone, i kind of forget about everything… except for gabriella! it’s funny. as loud as her cries are, they’re kind of my savior right now.

—hm...

—it’s getting late, so i’ll just whip up something at home—

—no, stay. i’ll cook something.

—sir, you don’t have to—

—miguel’s chest swelled. that word again.

—i’m cooking. stay, or i’m firing you for wasting my ingredients.

—hey, unfair! pretty sure that’s a violation of our contract or something!

—it didn’t take long for it to become a regular occurrence.

—miguel would cook a late dinner for two, and he’d join you on the couch with a plate of what the limit of his culinary skills could whip up. 

—it wasn’t like this every day, but it was often, which was more than what miguel could ask for.

—he would use the little time he had with you to learn about you more. your interests, your background, your passions, your personality, and you’d do the same. 

—on some nights, he’d proof-read your thesis paper and provide some feedback that you would immediately take in consideration and make the changes to your paper.

—on many nights, he’d simply close your laptop and force you to take a break because as alluring as those recent eye bags were, your health was a priority.

—stay for the night. it’s late.

—i’m almost done for the night! i just have a few more—

—nope, you’ve used up all your excuses. i’m confiscating this.

—where am i even supposed to sleep?!

—and on those many nights, you’d end up sleeping on miguel’s couch despite the persistent offers of his comfier bed.

—there would be times where you two would chat into the night while the tv played in the background. 

—you’d ask each other about your day, tell stories about gabriella, bond over shared interests, fueled debates over a quality of a certain movie, until fatigue hit either you or miguel.

—usually you were the first one to fall asleep, and he would watch you silently.

—the flickering lights from the tv would accentuate your features in the night, and he never knew he could find you even more handsome.

—your complete vulnerability was enticing. 

—you would curl into the blanket he’d given you, and miguel would take the time to count the seconds it would take for you to exhale your dreams.

—the longer it was, the deeper you were into your sleep.

—it wouldn’t be until thirty exhales more that miguel would send himself to bed.

—five seconds, miguel would find himself mimicking the pattern of your breath before he drifted off into the night.

—then there would be nights where the subject matter would be more personal, more than miguel would have liked.

—does it get lonely sometimes?

—i’d be lying if i said no. not all the time, though. i have gabriella.

—huh…

—is that why you’re a complete grump all the time?

—watch it.

—i’m kidding! good thing you have me too, right?

—yeah.

—good thing i have you too… miguel sighed heavily at the empty side of his bed, staring into the darkness until the shadows from the night had forged a shape of your body.

—he closed his eyes when he felt a whisper of your lips near his, barely ghosting over his pair, and stroke himself to the possible reality of you becoming his. 

—fuck... he then lied on his stomach and began humping into the bed, against the bed sheets, and held the imagination of your body close to his own, protecting you like his life depended on it.

—i need you… miguel pressed his face into the pillow, inhaling the memory of your shampoo as he polished his hips further into the bed. 

—his cock rubbed in between his body and the soft sheets as he’d imagine unsheathing himself in and out of you at a slow yet steady pace.

—because he needed to savor you.

—he would imagine how you’d respond with every thrust. 

—your words would glue to your throat because you’d be too overwhelmed by his size, by the pleasure that miguel would finally be delivering to you, by the doting hold around you, and with the aid of his hips, your words would like crystallized honey.

—miguel would push his cock into you deeper, taking in the sound of your voice into his with a warm kiss. — i— 

—you would draw out sounds from your throat until they were practically begs when miguel would pull out excruciatingly slow to tease, then a demand as he would doubt your confession by cautiously following the outline of your pucker with the tip of his cock.

— need—

—his hips would lift, then come down onto you like hail. hard and sudden as his cock would ram into your tight fill, knock your breath back into the tight of your throat.

— you— 

—you need him. 

—miguel could tell from the way you completed allowed him to invade your reserve until he was balls-deep inside of you. 

—from the way he’d pull out once more and your hole would memorize the shape of his cock, down to his thick girth. puckering to the recollection of his throbbing veins.

—and he’d be the one to bridge the puzzle pieces together as he would press himself forward and bend your legs back before slamming his cock back into you  with the delirious evocation of lust.

—you would stifle your moans into your forearm as the bed rocked to the strong rhythm of miguel’s thrusts, but he’d pull your arms away and hold your wrists above your head.

—he needed to hear you.

—hear how much you wanted him, how much you needed him.

— i’m going to come—

—you’d grunt in between the heavy and sticky sounds of your skin colliding against one another, into the thick air that you and miguel had mutually forged together. 

—his other hand had been wrapped around your cock, jerking the throbbing muscle to every count of his balls bouncing off your bottom. 

—he would squeeze and stroke, your pre-cum coming down in thick drips, and he would thumb at the slippery wet slip until the pad of his thumb was layered in your thick substance.

—until his fist was covered in a glorious amount of your warm cum, inking him deep with your devotion before feeding you of your own need. 

—he would bring his hand up to you and slip two fingers inside of your mouth. your tongue would slowly roll over his cum-covered digits, sucking the bittersweetness off of him.

—it wouldn’t be long until it would be miguel’s turn. 

—miguel would continue bringing the remaining fingers up to your mouth for you to cleanse him off, and it would be enough for him to have him in shambles.

—imagining you devour your own sweet lust until all five of his fingers were polished clean awakened him to another level of pure ecstasy, and miguel groaned, rocking desperately into his bed.

—your warm hands would all over his toned body, fueling the tension in his stomach as you would prioritize the center of his abdomen.

—fuck, come in me—

—miguel would his weight onto you, his large body practically devouring you in sheer size as the heat and sweat confined you to the parameters, and he’d hold you close once more by slipping his arms around you.

—a cycle of thrusts quickened every round and you held onto him. kissing at the side of his neck. suckling at the round of his shoulder. 

—i’m coming… he muttered to himself, to no one but the wrinkled sheets beneath him, and fucked his cock harder into his bed.

—and when you heard a shudder coming from the depths of miguel’s strained throat, you licked a stripe at the center of his throat to pacify him, making your way to the plush of his lips, and kissed him at the pivot of his climax.

—miguel would exhale hard against your mouth before kissing you and spilling delirious moans into the captivity when he would begin flooding your insides with his thick and warm cum. 

—heavy ropes would ricochet off your violated inside, but miguel would press into you closer, harder, and intimately so, until your foreheads were bruised into one another.

—in occurring reality, miguel painted his bed sheets in thick layers of warmth and musk. layers of cum wetting his bed as he desperately held onto his fantasies with sensitive rolls of his hips.

—his tongue would tangle into yours, practicing a slow, sensitive waltz as his softening cock would sink deep into your hole. 

—and you would moan and suckle around him as you felt every drop of cum warm you from the inside and out, shielding you from the goosebumps that would frost your skin.

—the kiss would remain its passionate dance as you both relaxed into each other. your legs unwrapped to tangle into miguel’s, expertly lifting the blanket over your feet in the process. 

—he would hold you tighter once he broke the kiss, turning you on your side as he lied flat on his back. 

—your head would rest on his chest after pulling the remaining blanket up to your bodies and you would sigh, suddenly feeling drowsier with miguel’s warm caress aiding sleep against your back.

—for the remaining moment, he would gaze at the sheen of sweat that highlighted the flush of your skin. 

—he would listen to the beat your heart, slowly coming to its resting pace as you succumb to sleep under the spell of his doting touch.

—and he would strangely feel a need to hold you, shelter you inside of his arms because he feared something would happen to you.

—fuck.

—miguel quickly rolled back onto his back in the midst of catching his breath, the shadows that had formed the image of you unfurling into obscurity. 

—he felt his heart race, bullets rebounding off the beating surface like a drum, and he placed a hand over his chest to pacify at the sudden swell of his chest. —i think i love you.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[lavenderspence]

Spending time with you | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, reader can’t swim

Word Count: 0.8K

Summary: Training and swimming, he didn't really care about. Just as long as he was spending time with you.

Request: Hiii! I have a request that can be fun/funny and a cute read for a summer day hehe what about Hotch teaching reader how to swim? she’s been embarrassed to let him know she doesn’t know how to but since he’s getting ready for his triathlon (maybe another one, not the same as season 7 so a slightly older Hotch if you want🤭) and she’s joined him for runs and biking, the only thing left is the swimming! 🩷

A/N: this is the shortest thing i’ve written so far, but this mild writer's block has been kicking my ass. and so has my hyper-fixation on writing all my requests, babes is struggling. but yeah, this one is a cutie, so enjoy!

Ps: girly also doesn't know how to swim so - my husband's gonna take care of me, don't worry

Requests are CLOSED! | mastelist

You kicked your legs, letting the cold water splash around. You gripped into the edge of the pool tightly, as you looked on over, trying to see the bottom and failing. It wasn’t possible - at three meters deep, just looking at the darkness down there made your stomach rage with nerves. 

You swallowed, took a deep breath, and turned around to see him fastening a fitness watch on his wrist. 

The navy blue swim trunks he was wearing were highlighting his body well. He looked almost the same as the last time he’d done the triathlon - 4 years ago. But there were just a few small differences too. The smile lines adorning both his eyes and lips were now even more prominent. The small, but barely noticeable tummy he had was highlighted deliciously when he was wearing a dress shirt. And of course, the salt and pepper hair he’d decided not to dye this last time.

He looked good, he looked hot, but even his body, the whole package you’d forever be in love with, couldn’t distract you from the worry you felt, the mild fear. 

When he’d asked you to help him train for the annual FBI triathlon, you couldn’t tell him no. You loved spending the extra time with him - you loved seeing him active and you loved the goofy smile he got after a good run or some biking. 

Funny enough, you liked it too - the adrenaline, smiling in his direction, finishing up on a walk with your hands intertwined, a bit out of breath. The naps that followed after that were cuddling close to him, spooning him, and having him spoon you. 

After finishing up with the running and biking, the only thing left was swimming, which was why you found yourself holding onto the edge for dear life, your heart beating like crazy. Because, see, when you’d agreed to help your husband train for the triathlon, you’d forgotten to mention one very important detail - you’d never learned how to swim.

Three weeks of training and you hadn’t gathered the courage to tell him - so here you were, worried, overtaken by fear, watching as he jumped into the pool head first. 

Seconds later, he swam to the surface and took a deep breath. His hands pushed at the wet strands back, and he started swimming in your direction. 

He settled between your legs with a smile. His hands ran across your outer thighs, massaging the skin and getting them all wet. 

You reached for him, pushing a strand of hair off his forehead, before your palm settled on his cheek and you ran your thumb across his stubble. You loved the barely there facial hair he’d let grow in the last few days. 

“You ready?” He asked, turning his head to lay a small kiss on your wrist. You looked deep into his eyes, as you chewed at the inside of your lip. He must have seen, because he reached up and ran his thumb across your lips, pulling it out a bit to stop you from assaulting the tender flesh anymore.

Your heart pounded and you felt your palms warm up. 

“Actually, I need to tell you something first.” You whispered, as the feeling of mortification and embarrassment suddenly overtook you. So many years of your childhood, and your life were wasted, unable to learn something so basic. 

You watched as his brows furrowed in worry, his eyes shining bright in wonder, “What is it, honey?”

You bit at your lip again, only to have him pull at it again with a shake of his head. You pulled both your hands into your lap, and looked down, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

“Idon’tknowhowtoswim.” You rushed to say quietly

“I don’t think I caught that, honey.” He pushed your chin up and searched your eyes for an answer.

You exhaled, “I don’t know how to swim, Aaron. I never learned.” You finally admit, eyes squeezing shut. 

It was quiet for a second. 

“Open your eyes, honey.” You did as he said, and watched as his finger ran across your rings, his own sparkling in the lightning, “Doesn’t matter that you can’t swim. I can teach you if you want, or you can just sit right here and enjoy the view.” His lips pulled in a small smirk before he kissed your sternum. 

“I don’t care if you train with me or not. I asked so I could spend more time with you. Either way, we’re together.” 

“You’re a good husband, Aaron.” You said as you leaned down to steal a kiss. He pulled you in as much as he could given the awkward position, and gave you a few quick pecks. 

“And you’re an even better wife, honey.” He whispered. 

In the end, you let him pull you into the water, holding onto him tightly as you floated around and he showed you the easiest way to swim. He held you, helped you, and hyped you up when you succeeded. He really was the best husband ever.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[bedouinpoet]

Leader, lover, sir, and broken dream Part 2

Part two of the three. Hope you enjoy my lovelies. Part three coming soon.

warning: 18+ only, smuuuut 🫣dom Hotch, mentions of drug and alcohol use, cheating.

Chapter 2, High on Hotchner

1 year later…

You and Hotch never spoke of that kiss after that, you secretly hoped he was more willing to fight for you. But the case went by easy enough. You found the supposed “short white dude” however despite his insecurities he didn’t match your profile especially when you realized the unsub was a woman. You and Reid figured out it was Victoria Baird’s friend Lindsey who had been doing the kidnapping and murdering, jealous of the attention the girls had, feeling she had deserved it more, you found Victoria alive, and the case was a classic profile. After that case you and Reid got closer, he’d invite you to movies in the park every Sunday, and your friendship grow and you were so glad to have an uncomplicated love, a friendship, and even though you two were just friends, when around Hotch, you made sure to hug him more, lean your head on his shoulder, tease him. Maybe you wanted to punish Hotch, or maybe you were just a glutton for punishment, but you wanted Hotch to be jealous, you wanted him to fight for you, to want you, maybe that was toxic but you felt like he deserved it. However even that didn’t last, because one year after that Kiss Aaron Hotchner moved on, and got a girlfriend, Beth. And you couldn’t even deny it, she was great, great with Jack, great for Hotch, clearly made Hotch happy but it seemed everyone else already knew about Beth except you, you were the last to find out after supporting him during his triathlon. At first you were gonna ignore it, brush it off but it simply kept biting at you, finally Pen made a good point that you couldn’t argue.

“if you and Hotch are actually gonna at least be friends then BE friends, that means TALKING! My lovely lovely iron heart girl. Actually talking, even about the icky uncomfortable talks about feelings-“ she had a point so here you are waiting, waiting for Hotch to be alone and once Garcia leaves she gives you a thumbs up and whispered “good luck” and you make your way to his office. You tap gently on his door, but it’s enough to get his attention. He looks up at you in momentary surprise but quickly reverting back to his usual serious disposition. “Y/n? What’s up?” You stand awkwardly in front of his desk, trying desperately to not remember all the things you two did on that desk, and his chair, and the sofa, and the floor. You sit down so he doesn’t see your legs shake as you get hornier, closing your legs and you clear your throat. “I just wanted to talk to you about something if that’s okay?” “of course” he puts his hands on his desk casually and you refuse to look at those stupid sexy big hairy hands. “Hotch….why didn’t you tell me about Beth? I mean….it just seemed like everyone else knew about her? Specially Dave BUT me, and I thought we agreed we were gonna try to be friends-friends mention that sort of thing Hotch-“

”do they?” His tone seemed accusatory and you didn’t get why but his face remained the same furrowed eyebrow way “what?”

“Well you said friends say these kind of things but when I asked you on repeated occasion what’s going on between you and Spencer Reid, you tell me its none of my business or accuse me of only asking because I am jealous.”

you feel your cheeks flush with shame but that heat then turns to anger and defence “that’s different Hotch and you know it-“

“how so?”

you feel your attitude showing up even though you told yourself not to make this an argument, every time you two have spoken you end up bickering “because I’m not accusing you of boning a co worker AGAIN first Morgan then Reid, Jeeze it’s like you think heaven forbid someone could just be friends with me without me wanting to fuck em!? And for your information no. Me and Reid are just friends. Close friends sure, but friends….and if that’s seriously why you didn’t tell me about Beth that’s pathetic and petty as hell!”

You feel in your gut you crossed the line by calling him pathetic and petty as he clenches his fists almost shaking. His eyes became an absolute storm. For a moment you want to push that storm further, you want him to punish you for such ‘insubordination’ but you feel yourself stop, he’s with someone you remind yourself, this isn’t a game. But that look, that dark foreboding, domineering look that drives you crazy and it gives you the courage to not back down. As he continues

“you really expect me to believe that? I see how you two are together, always hugging, hands on each other-“

”yes because we’re FRIENDS! I hug my friends, I’m like that with Morgan too and with Pen, my love language is touch you know that.” He scoffs “well that’s pretty unprofessional in the work space-“ you raise your eyebrows in absolute shock you can’t help but laugh, that feeling of Deja vu again becoming overwhelming but this time you aren’t backing down, you wont give him the satisfaction of submitting. “Are you fucking serious right now? I think we both know that argument is null in void Hotchner or are you forgetting the last time we had this talk, as I recall THAT time it was jealousy and you speak of professionalism here when you didn’t give much of a shit about professionalism when you bent me over that desk and fucked me to next Tuesday!? And you know what I think that’s what this is about…I think you ARE Jealous still!” You spot a blush on Hotch’s cheeks, as his eyes darken at the mention of what he did to you but then he averts his eyes for split second. Then he re builds his composure, his confidence resurfaces when he scoffs and rolls his eyes “Don’t be ridiculous y/n….i am your boss, no one else speaks to me the way you do and yet maybe that’s my fault I let it happen too long and you think this behaviours is ok-“

“Don’t scold me like a child and your diverting-“ your blood begins to boil over.

“Then stop acting like one! And I’m not jealous of anything, I have nothing to be jealous of” his face falls in guilt as he sees the pain in your eyes. That struck you far harder than expected with absolute burning venom to your veins. It takes the breath out of you and the fight out of you too. You feel you really may have been stretching it thinking he still cared for you in that way. You stand up, your body moves as your mind shuts down. “Y/n where are you going?”

“I didn’t come to argue Aaron….I mean Hotch….I just want to be friends” your feel tears in your eyes yet you can’t seem to cry. You finally look at him as his voice turns gentle “y/n I-“

“its fine Hotch….I’m sorry for overstepping, I thought we were friends I guess I was wrong….see you Monday Boss”

with that you left. The idea of staying in any proximity to Hotch was something you couldn’t bear right now…

…

You spent the first two hours at home crying and drinking, then drinking and reading, then putting on your tv flipping through channels, passing every romance movie with venom and hurt. Until you finally land on one your favourites “Ha! Halloween movie marathon perrrrfect Fuck romance” you slightly slur to the empty room, you order a pizza and some wings and start to watch, after having some wings you feel yourself slightly sober up. That’s when you remember you have a few joints somewhere hidden in the kitchen, you rummage through, desperate for a new distraction. What were you thinking, acting so cocky with Hotch!? Thinking he was jealous when he has…Beth. You finally find the pack you hid for a rainy day and dam it was storming in your mind. You sit down and light up the first joint, after the fifth puff you’re already glad you remembered these little delights when ‘knock knock knock’

“fuckl!” You whisper blowing out your puff waving the smoke away like that will get rid of the smell,

knock knock knock

“yes yes yes alright I’m coming!”

You open your door roughly only to stop dead almost losing your breath as you see Aaron Hotchner, disheveled, tired eyes, standing at your door ‘fuck…I am too damn drunk and high for this’ you think as anxiety fills you that Hotch, a unit chief of the FBI, Aaron Hotchner a fricken Profiler will definitely spot the dilated pupils, the smell, your change in character….have you been standing here too long?

“um y/n? M-may I come in?” You move aside still scared to talk like you’ll shout “I’m stoned as fuck right now dude” so you stay quite as he steps inside, his faint smell of cologne makes you want to swoon into his arms. You notice even his clothes are disheveled, his tie loose around his neck, no suite jacket, shirt wrinkled, now your scared

“Urrrmm….Hotch? What’s wrong?”

those joints are really starting to kick in and all you could think is how thirsty you were and not just for water, hoping this will be quick visit so you can help yourself. You also really need to sit down.

“Nothing….i just- y/n I hate the way we ended things today, can we please just talk? Please?” You feel your breath quicken but you can’t say no to his pleading. But you did way too much weed for a serious conversation “are you okay?” You just nod “water want some?” Is all you Can say. He smiles thankfully“sure thanks”

“cool…sit down I’ll bring us”

you fill your cup and chug it down for dear life then fill it again and a cup for Hotch.

You start to whisper to yourself “don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip” you slowly give him the cup as your eyes widen as you realize how fucked you are, you see all the bottles on the table in front of Hotch….and the joints. You notice a slight knowing smirk pulling at his lips

“thaaaat….is….medicinal” the smirk becomes a full blown laugh like honey “did you ever really believe that when someone told you the same lie?”

“Nah, I usually look the other way when it comes to weed, what are you gonna do cuff me?” You wink and his eyes turn from light laughter to darkness, your mouth is dry but your panties become wet.

“You know you shouldn’t admit that to me, I’m your boss”

you shrug sitting down next to Hotch and lift one of the fresh joints “we’re off the clock and this is my home, right now you’re just some dude who knows where I live” he merely laughs and shakes his head “ok fair point” he starts to watch you intently as you lift the joint to your lips, in your mouth as you light it up. Being the brat you are you take a deep inhale. You look back at Hotch and smirk “want some?” You offer it to him and he seems clearly hesitant.

“Oh sorry you probably have to go to Jack I wont keep you-“

“actually Jack is having a sleep over at a friends house and….well Beth lives in New York now”

“Oh….im sorry that must be tough with your schedules”

He looks away from you and you fear you said something.

“Yes I suppose but I go when I can and vice versa”

“that’s good at least…so….since you don’t have to drive I repeat the offer….want some? You can crash on my couch if you want….unless your scared, goody two shoes” low blow but thankfully his laugh shows he knows your teasing and he takes the joint and inhales like a pro. Your shock evident as he laughs and inhales again.

“Aaron-I don’t know your middle name- Hotchner….have you smoked weed before?” You puff twice before handing it back to him….He tries to not cough as he laughs

“goody two shoes? What are you twelve? Who says that now?” You find yourself laughing uncontrollably, a proper laugh, that rolls off you effortlessly. You haven’t felt this in a long time “maybe, now answer the question doody head” you take the joint from him. He laughs and shakes his head

“Well I wasn’t always the ‘goody two shoes’…I used to actually be the problem child when I was young, I was always getting into stupid trouble…” he paused like deep in thought, you shuffle closer beside him and nudge his knee “so? What happened to make the Hotch we all know and love today?” You hope he didn’t notice you saying love and he clearly doesn’t as he takes two rather large puffs and passes it back “I grow up…I figured I had two choices, keep making the same bad choices or be the person my family needed me to be after my dad died. I had to be there for Sean and mom and I wanted….I wanted to be good enough for Haley” he trails off again and you allow the moment of silence for her… and for him. Finally you clear your throat passing it back “well…sounds like little Aaron was pretty smart and I’m glad he made the choices he did or else we wouldn’t have you” you kiss his cheek like it was the most natural thing to do…Fuck your stoned, why did you do that? Hotch blushes and smiles flustered, his smile allows you to breath a little…”thanks y/n”

“Any time hun”

you look into those velvety chocolate eyes, his eyes are blood shot but his pupils become so dilated you wonder if that’s all the weed or if, like you, he’s horny as hell, your eyes dart between his eyes and mouth and you notice him doing the same, staying on your lips long enough to make you lightly lick them. You feel as if times stopped and the air is heavy, the room closing in. Hotch opens his mouth to speak a few times still flustered “I should-“

“yea”

and without a thought you grab his shirt and kiss him like there’s no tomorrow, you stop only for a moment to make sure he is ok but as you looked at those eyes, that handsome, painfully loving and brave face, without thinking you say. “I shouldn’t have turned you away….i was in so much pain that day and I was scared, even though I wanted you….want you…so bad…I need you right now Aaron” his eyes darkened looking at your pleading horny filled eyes, you were so wet it was uncomfortable sitting so still.

“y/n-“ he searches for what to say, so you stop him “please ….Aaron”

Hotche’s breathing hitches at the sound of his name, you can tell he’s holding back, like an animal in a cage, but that cage is wavering. You start to squirm needing to feel his touch so bad. You damn near pout lightly caressing his leg. “Fuck it” he growls as he grabs you by the neck and pulls you in for a kiss that feels like it can consume you. His touches rough, needy, possessive he grabs your jaw holding it tight as he growls “open your mouth baby” you obey without question and he puts two fingers in, you suck them desperately, he quickly hisses as you start to palm the hard-on that’s fighting against his pants. He stares at you sucking his fingers like it’s the hottest thing in the world “fuck sweetheart the things I want to do to you”

“do it…do all of it…punish me sir please I need you” he shoves his fingers back in your mouth this time rougher, like he’s angry.

“want me to punish you for being the pretty little tease you are hmm? Want me to punish you for all your insubordination, looking at me with those eyes, wearing those dresses, showing off what I can’t touch, you know how much that killed me? Trying to make me jealous huh?” All you can do is gag just wishing he’ll use his cock soon, he takes his fingers from your mouth grabbing you by the neck “answer me baby…I wanna hear what you want” you stutter, trying to think of words as you feel his touch like a drug under your shirt moving up to your breasts (thank gosh you decided not to wear a bra right now) he pinches your nipple “answer me y/n” he pinches harder and you shout “fuck! Yes….yes sir I want-fuck- I- need you to punish me, fuck me, let me taste please sir” if this was anyone else you’d feel pathetic but with Aaron….it felt right, you wanted it and more so right now with how high you both were, every touch felt like an orgasm you just needed more. “p-pl-please…Daddy”

It was the first time trying that nickname but it had the effect you hoped for. Aaron growled and gave a gutteral moan and his lips was on yours, this time biting your bottom lip so hard it bled, he stood up and his every action just got you wetter as he looked down at you, slowly taking off his belt “be a good girl, take off your shirt now” you feel yourself shake at his gaze as you take your shirt off slowly, anything for more. He unzips and lowers his pants and boxers just low enough for his cock to spring out. You forgot how big his cock was you swallow at the idea of having it down your throat, excited as you see the pre cum glisten his tip. Hotch grabs your jaw tight forcing you to look up at him. “Open wide sweetheart….wider” you open as wide as you can, your tongue sticking out to finally get a taste. He smiles down at you like a sight to behold “mmm good girl, you’re gonna take my cock like my good slut and you don’t stop till I say so….nod that you understand and agree babe” you nod repeatedly just needing to feel it. Without warning he shoves his cock deep down your throat, you gag and choke but you just want more as you put your hand at his base, he doesn’t let up, he pulls your hair thrusting hard….you wanted punishment, he’s going to give it to you

“fuuuuuck y/n your mouth feels so damn good! Fuck that’s right take it baby…you wanted to get me jealous huh? Knew it would drive me crazy seeing Reid and Morgan’s hands on you- fuck!” His legs almost buckle when he thrusts so deep your nose touches the little hairs at his base and you gag

“fucking take my cock and remember who you belong too”

hearing his possessiveness through his guttural moans as he grunts and thrusts deep down your throat drove you crazy, you had to touch yourself or you’d explode. You put your hand down your shorts and you rub your clit, moaning and gagging on his cock, his hands tight gripped on your hair. You hear Hotch’s laugh, a dark, horny laugh “you just can’t wait huh sweetheart? Your pussy needs it huh….what does your pussy need baby tell Daddy?” He finally lets you breath, the tip of his cock playing on your lips, slapping your face

“you sir, please, my pussy needs you Aaron please”

he cups your face the first moment of gentleness and for a moment you think he will give in. He rubs his thumb on your bottom lip, smirking with dark eyes like he has plans. “You really thought I was gonna make it so easy? Tsk tsk tsk you’re gonna suck my cock a little longer and no touching that clit unless I say-“ you start to whimper “but-“

“no buts, give me your hands” you obey reluctantly, confused and excited for whatever he has planned. He grabs your wrists with one hand, grabbing his belt with the other. You watch in excitement, heated, needy awe as he ties your hands together. He keeps a hold of your tied hands while he uses his other to continue pulling your hair. Full control of your body. His breathing staggering as he orders

“open”

you obey taking every inch until you gag, the moment he hears those sounds he thrusts harder and harder. Your throat burns but you don’t want it to stop, even for water, you feel tears start to roll down your cheeks, your spit down your chin, all of it just makes Aaron rougher, his breathing ragged as his thrusts become more sporadic. You know he’s close you suck his cock like your life depends on it. “fuck y/n!” with that final thrust you feel his cum down your throat and coat your mouth. He thrusts a few more times just to make sure every drop is down your throat. As he gets out he closes your mouth “swallow babe” you do “again” you do and open your mouth just to prove you swallowed it sticking your tounge out. Hotch takes his opportunity putting your tongue in his mouth kissing you as he takes off your shorts. Caressing every part of you then pinching your nipples hard enough to make you shout “Aaron!” He pinches again as he kisses down your neck biting hard at your pulse point….you know he’s gonna leave a million marks and it only turns you on more.

“A-Aaron please I need you I-i can’t wait please” your pleading evident in your entire body as he looks at you with those caramel eyes and you know he’s given in. He kisses you gently “let’s go to your room it’s time your pussy got some attention sweetheart”

his boxers and and pants already off the only thing standing between you and Aaron Hotchner’s naked body is his dress shirt and loosened tie…you take his hand leading him to your bedroom, as you smile back at him you see Hotch taking off his tie, and unbuttoning his shirt with one hand….fuck what those hands could do. The second you close the bedroom door after you, Hotch pins you to the door hard enough to knock the wind out of you and no time to take a breath with his lips on yours again, you start to pump his already hardening cock as you feel his fingers tease your clit at an excruciating pace, you can’t remember the last time you felt so good and remember that it was always like this with Aaron, like he knows your body and every weak spot you have. You grasp his hair for support as he sticks two fingers in you relentlessly and you grab his hair harder as he groans. “sir..please no more teasing I need you so bad”

with your final plea he lifts you and takes you to the bed, putting you down and in that moment he’s on top of you, you feel an overwhelming sense of warmth, this feeling like everything is right, he looks in your eyes and you can see he feels the same way “y/n- I-i love you”

your heart pounds at the unexpected confession and you feel speechless all you can do is kiss him over and over as he adjusts himself to your entrance and thrusts home. First at a slow pace allowing you to adjust to his size, but then he stays at that pace to tease you until you wrap your legs around his waist, just wanting to feel every inch of him stretch you, with that his pace turns relentlessly harder, and harder and harder as he pulls your hair and bites your neck, your shoulder, cupping and squeezing your breasts as you moan his name over and over as he groans and grunts, and praises “you feel so good honey so fucking good” it’s like candy to your ears and you can’t get enough as you feel that coil inside you about to snap, you scratch down Hotch’s back and you clench his cock, moaning in unison as you orgasm on him and he fucks you through it. Your entire body shakes and you feel Aaron’s pace go harder and faster as he chases his own high. Until he’s about to pull out but you keep your legs wrapped around him

“y/n I’m about to cu-“

“in me please I wanna feel it” with that permission he lets go thrusting hard and deep making sure his seed is deep inside. For a few minutes you both just stay there. His head nuzzles in your neck as you play with his hair, his cock softening inside you. “I think you should sleep in my bed tonight….couch is too far away and I’m cold”

he laughs in your neck “oh I see, I’m supposed to be just your heated blanket?” You nod excitedly

“yup…no other reason Mr Heated blanket you run hot I need heat it’s like free heating”

he laughs again and you could listen to that sound for eternity as he stands up and you feel his warmth missing and it makes you whimper he leans in to kiss your forheard “I’m just getting us some water sweetheart….that was a lot of marijuana you need to stay hydrated, do you need anything else honey?”

You try to think but all you do is stare at that man’s body so you smile and shake your head “just hurrry I’m cold” he takes a moment to look at you and leaves. You start to really get cold so you snuggle under the blanket making sure to keep the space for Hotch as he comes back in. He hands you a cup “drink” you take the cup “thanks” you’re about to put it down when “nun uh uh drink, that pretty mouth and throat worked hard today. Need to hydrate baby…” you smile, your heart..you feel cracks in that wall you built up. He takes care of you, he understands you, like no one has ever understood you and your after care is a piece of heaven. You drink some of the water and lay down as he does the same, taking you in his arms and holding you as close to him as possible. you both doze off in bliss….until the next morning when everything hits and everything falls apart…

to be continued

[blanceverlast]

I was not prepared for this Yujin 😳Is that what a marathon with her would look like?

Meanwhile Wonyoung working hard on being effortlessly perfect

Just once chance with these two 😩

Dang frisky! that first pic tho 🥵 first time i see her like that Need that in HQ so bad. Hell I'd sell my soul to do triathlon with her lmao, love them new look!

Oh annyeongz, perhaps in my next life 😫