she's gorgeouse

breathe me in.

Been wanting to write something about this since my good friend @sasusake and I flailed about how such a first time could have gone down during their travels. It was such an inspiring conversation, and the image I had in mind was just too good to pass up! And now many, many months later I finally got around to it.

Hope you enjoy! :)

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto.

It was that look in her eyes that unraveled him: hesitant, determined—but so gentle, so shy as she tentatively held his dark gaze. Straddled along the span of his legs, her small hands rested at the opening of his slacks; questioning him, but never pushing, always only gingerly testing the limits of where he was willing to go.

Swallowing thickly, Sasuke only pushed his face into her neck, and nodded. Closing his eyes, he exhaled a slow breath as she timidly worked on the buttons, slim fingers shaking. His stomach tensed when he felt her reach for the band of his underwear, fumbling with it momentarily with nervous tugs—but when she finally pulled him out, he found himself holding back a gasp, his lone hand curling tightly against the back of her shirt.

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Nothing Realistic

Five times Jughead’s feelings for Betty were totally (not) platonic (at all). And one time his feelings were a lot more than that.


She’s been crying again. He pretends like he doesn’t notice the way her blue eyes are rimmed in red or the thickness in her voice or the little smudges of black under her lashes. It could be about Polly, or her parents. Maybe Archie. There are all kinds of reasons for her to cry these days, and the thought breaks his heart just as many ways.

“Hey,” He cups her delicate jaw in his hand, thinks she looks so gorgeously, tragically fragile in that moment that he could shatter her just by squeezing. “Look,” he nods toward the window of her bedroom, and her gaze drifts over to meet the orange and gold streaked sky. Her lips, swollen and tantalizingly red, curve just the slightest bit at the sight.

“Beautiful,” she says.

“Yeah,” he agrees, eyes never leaving her face.

Read the rest


A/N: An anon request where Spencer and the reader are married and work together. She’s pregnant with their baby and has to stay behind at Quantico with Garcia. Spencer goes on a case, and he makes threats against the team, specifically the reader, so he calls her to see how she is, but he can’t reach her. @coveofmemories


“God, I’m so not used to this,” Y/N said, pressing her hand into her back to relieve a bit of the stress on her spine. At eight and a half months pregnant, the baby was starting to put a lot of stress on her back. She was ready to not be pregnant anymore. Plus, she was desperate to get back in the field.

“Not used to what, gorgeous,” Garcia said, standing tall on five inch heels as she tottered over to where the rest of the team was standing. They had 30 minutes until wheels up and everyone was ready to go. So was she - but being so far along she couldn’t. 

“Oh god, I’m not gorgeous. I’m a sweaty bowling ball.”

“You are not!” Garcia and JJ exclaimed at the same time. “From someone who has also had a baby, you are a beautiful pregnant lady.” JJ had looked like the epitome of gorgeousness when she was pregnant, so hearing it from her felt nice.

“And I’m not used to not being out in the field,” she said, as Spencer came back from the bathroom. “Garcia, I love you with the burning fiery passion of a thousand suns and I appreciate what you do more than you will ever know, but I am going stir crazy in here. I wanna kick an unsub in the face again.”

Spencer had come to stand at her side, kissing the top of her head as he laughed. “First, maternity leave, and then you can start kicking the crap out of people again.”

“Oh thank god,” she exclaimed, bending over in an attempt to stretch out her spine. She was so ready to be not pregnant anymore. 

“Alright, wheels up,” Hotch said, as he walked out of his office. “Y/N take care of yourself and this one.” When they all passed on the way the elevator, they patted her stomach, as had become customary since she started saying behind.

Spencer was the last to leave, pressing a firm kiss to her lips, and her stomach. “I love you, and I love you.”

“We love you too,” she replied. “Please be careful.”


Normally, the team didn’t get involved until after something was wrong - until after there was a dead victim, but a single mother of teenage twins flew in from three states away when her daughters were taken.

They had been stalked relentlessly over the past few months by someone they didn’t know, or at least no one that had made themselves known, but when the team saw the letters the unsub had written, they had no doubt that whoever he was, he could’ve come out of the shadows to take them away. 

Upon their arrival, they had difficulty tracking him down or even narrowing down who it might be, until he slipped up, allowing one of the twins to run for help. Although she was captured again, there were eyewitnesses, which led them straight to him.

As they made their way into the warehouse where he was keeping them, all six team members had their guns up and trained to shoot at a moment’s notice. “The fantastic BAU comes to the rescue,” the man announced, waving his gun about in one hand while the other clutched the twins by the neck.

“Let them go!” Hotch yelled.

“Why should I, Agent Hotchner? Dead ex-wife Hayley, father of Jack, leader of the BAU, narcissistic, overbearing. Why would I listen to you?”

He was attempting to get under their skin, make them think he’d studied them as well as the twins, but in all likelihood he’d done a cursory search of them once he realized they were on the case. “Maybe I should listen to Jennifer Jareau, mother of Henry, girlfriend of Will. Why aren’t you married yet? Afraid to make something permanent when it could all be taken away in the blink of an eye?” 

All JJ wanted to do was lunge across the room at the maniac and make him beg for his life for even mentioning her son’s name, but she stood her ground, keeping the gun trained as he went around to each member of the team, looking for a way to push their buttons. “Or maybe I should listen to the stubborn Dr. Spencer Reid, the one that is overprotective of his very pregnant wife, Y/N. You might want to get home soon Dr. Reid.”

“Why?” he asked without thinking. He shouldn’t be giving anything this man said any credence, but at the mention of his wife, he couldn’t help himself.

“I have a partner,” he declared. “Go ahead, tell them girls. There was another man here wasn’t there.” 

They both shook their heads. “But then he was gone.”

“I assume he’s on his way to DC, to take your wife, as I told him too,” he said with a smile as the horror crossed Spencer’s eyes. He must’ve assumed he had leverage against them, that he had them hook, line and sinker, because he moved out from behind the girls and in milliseconds, Emily had taken him out. 

Spencer ran outside, dialing the phone immediately to check on his wife. The man was undoubtedly lying, but he couldn’t be too sure. The phone rang and rang and rang. Nothing. No answer. No matter how many times he called. “She’s not answering the phone,” he called into the team.

“Go!” Hotch screamed back.

So he ran. Spencer ran as fast he could back to grab a cab that would take him back to the airport. He needed to get back to her. The chance that she had been taken was too great for him to wait. It needed to be now.


Nearly two hours later, which felt more like eight, he’d made it back home. He must’ve had shoddy connection where he was because the second he got off the plane, he had a text message from Garcia.


Y/N wasn’t due for another two weeks, so at the mention of the word hospital the color drained from his face. Had the unsub’s partner been real, already gotten there and done something to her? Was she even still alive? The text message had come in nearly an hour before, while he was in the air. As he ran to the car, he threw the siren on top, gunning it to the hospital nearest to the BAU. 

“Y/N,” he said to the nurse at the front desk. “My wife, Y/N Reid was brought in here, I don’t know how long ago, or even why.” The panic in his voice was causing him to stumble over his words. “Where is she? Please, I need to know.”

“She’s this way, sir,” the woman said, leading him down the hallway. Once he’d entered the room, his utter panic vanished, instead replaced with complete joy. There, in her arms, was their baby. It was just an early delivery.

“Oh thank god,” he said, running to her side across from Garcia. “I thought something had happened to you. The unsub said he had a partner and he was coming here for you and I panicked and flew back without everybody else.” As soon as he looked toward the bundle in her arms, his eyes grew watery. “Is it a girl or a boy?”

“It’s a girl,” she smiled, holding her up to pass her to her father. “We need to pick out a name. I’m okay, Spence.” Apparently, he was still a little panicky. “I’m good. Everything hurts, but that’s supposedly normal. Don’t worry. Garcia took care of us.” 

“Thank you, Garcia,” he said, walking over to the other side of the bed and giving her a half-hug, considering the baby in his arms. “What about having her middle name be Penelope?” he asked his wife. 

“Really!?” Garcia exclaimed as Y/N nodded and Spencer placed the baby in Penelope’s arms. “Hi first name not sure, middle name Penelope. I’m your auntie and I’m going to spoil you rotten because that is my job.”

anonymous asked:

If she learned that women legit lust over her, first she would blush for sure in this cute way, when she blushed when this random guy shouted at her "Hillary, marry be baby!", and then she would start to verbally diminish her physical appeal. Was she really open about it, she would come up with zillions of things that are wrong about her body, and seriously, if she started to do that in front of me, I would just, not very politely, start to roll my eyes at her. You are beautiful, Hillary!

It really drives me a little crazy that she just refuses to accept compliments about her physical appearance, like the “you looked beautiful today” email and then her “sorry that’s wrong” reply. Sometimes I just want to take her hand and look into her eyes and tell her just how truly gorgeously stunning she really is and she better start accepting it because I speak only The Truth.

The Hillary marry me baby guy had the right idea. I wish there had been more moments like that really, she gets so much negative stuff screamed at her she deserves to hear the positives and be reminded just how beautiful and loved she is too

Bunch of Cuties: Lydia Martin

All done anon! This is my fist time writing Lydia so let me know what you thought! Also sorry it’s kinda short xx

“So who’s picking the movie?” Liam asked, shovelling popcorn in his mouth from the large bowl tucked under his arm. We were having one of our monthly movie nights at Scott’s house and currently arguing over what movie to watch.

“How about The Notebook?” Lydia said brightly, leaning over to grab a handful of popcorn from Liam, who playfully batted her away.

While Lydia wasn’t paying attention Stiles grabbed the Notebook DVD from the stack and hands it to me from behind his back. I fire it under the couch and put on an innocent face as me and Stiles high five.

“Sorry Lyds, no one brought it.” Stiles says, winking at me and I smirk. “Oh,” The redhead pouts before picking up the Titanic.

“I don’t think we have that one either.” Stiles says, looking at Scott and I saw the glint of a DVD disk in Scott’s fingers behind his back. Slowly I lean forward and swipe it out his hands.

“Got it!” I yelled triumphantly and Scott turned round and tackled me, tickling me all over, trying to pry the DVD from my fingers.

“Back up! Lydia back up!” I squeal and suddenly Lydia has Scott around the waist, the disk shining proudly between her fingers. She hurriedly shoves it into the DVD player as I shove Scott off me, still trying to overcome my giggles.

“Now shut up! This is a beautiful movie and you’re not going to ruin it. Let us drool over Leonardo DiCaprio in peace!” Lydia warns and I erupt into another round of giggles, choking on the popcorn I had stolen off Liam.

Liam patted me on the back, yanking me into a hug before making grabby hands at Lydia. She smiles gorgeously and we group hug. Me and Lydia kiss Liam on the cheek, leaving nice big red lipstick marks there as the opening scene plays.

Everyone shuffles around a bit, trying to get comfy in the cramp conditions. I swapped places with Liam, lying between him and Lydia as Scott and Stiles stayed on the floor, underneath a mountain of blankets.

As much as I absolutely adore the Titanic it is one long ass movie. I didn’t blame Lydia for getting sleepy. She’s had a hell of a lot to deal with.

Her head began nodding as her eyelids drooped. She sighed slightly before leaning over and lying on top of me, snuggling into the crook of my neck.

Without thinking I tiredly begin running my fingers through the ends of her hair, leaning my head on top of her as I stifle a yawn.

I’m dozing in and out of sleep before I hear the movie being paused. “Stiles, look! Look!” Scott whispered, followed by a loud thumping sound.

Stiles whines loudly before heaving himself up.

“Aww!” I heard him coo and his shadow blocked out the light from the TV, making me open my eyelids a fraction. Both of the boys were sitting on their knees in front of me and Lydia.

Both of them had fond expressions as they smile to themselves. “It’s about time!” Stiles huffs grinning.

“They’re so cute.” Scott sighs before picking up one of the blankets on the ground and draping it over me and Lydia, tucking it in at the sides.

“Sleep tight.” He murmurs and I smile softly as I cuddle in tighter with Lydia, falling asleep to the smell of her apple shampoo.

I don’t know where this came from…

“We’re doing shots!” his brother screamed. 

“Shots?” she looked up at him.

“We’re celebrating, babe,” he said.

“And celebrating means shots?” she asked. 

He smirked. “Usually." 

"Maks,” she worried. “I’m not a drinker, I think I’ll just -”

“Hey,” he said, quietly. “You know I got you, right?" 

She nodded. 

"So c'mon,” he whispered, grabbing her waist and pulling her onto his lap. “Take some shots. Live dangerously." 

"I thought being with you fulfilled my danger quota this year,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You think being with me is dangerous?” he asked, somewhat offended. 

“I think,” she murmured. “I think the way you make me feel is very dangerous.” She bit her lip, looking at his mouth that was oh-so-close to hers. 

“And how do I make you feel, princess?” he asked, threading his hands through her hair. 

“You make me,” she let out a small chuckle. “You make me want to do some shots, Maksim." 

He looked at her for a moment, then laughed in understanding. "Well, then, c'mon babe. Let’s do some shots." 

Several shots later…

"Maksie!” she squealed, dropping, somewhat ungraciously, on his lap. “Hi!!!!!!!

"Hi back,” he grinned, chuckling a bit. She was so gone.

It was fucking adorable.

I’m having such an awesome time! This is great!” she giggled, the alcohol in her system making her giddy and happy. She threaded her fingers into his hair, her bloodshot eyes connecting with his, and spoke -  somewhat - seriously. “I’m so happy I got you." 

"Yeah?” he asked, his forehead leaning forward to touch hers. Her long hair, a bit wavy from the heat of the club, encircled the both of them into their private world, where only the two of them existed. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, closing his eyes and just…breathing him in. “I miss you,” she mumbled. 

“Miss me? Baby, I’m right here,” he said, confused. 

“But you won’t be,” she whined. “You’ll be gone and so busy, and yo-you’ll forget me! You’ll have these pretty girls and I’ll lose so much sleep because I can’t sleep without you and you’ll-”

He kissed her. 


He had to. 

Because his girl was missing him, and even in her drunkenness, he saw what she was trying so hard to hide. 

Their upcoming separation was ripping her apart, too. 

“You are unforgettable,” he whispered against her mouth, his accent making the words hot and sensual. “You are more than I deserve, and I-”

“-love you.” she said. 

He pulled back, shocked. “What?" 

"I love you,” she said, her bedroom eyes looking up at him. “Yo-you love me, too, right? This wasn’t - this wasn’t something just for the cameras, was it? Because I-”

“love you too,” he finished. 


"Yes,” he declared. “I love you, Meryl Davis.”

“Really?’ she squealed. 


"Yay!” she giggled adorably. She cupped his face in her hands. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, her voice no longer a little drunk, but utterly sober. 

He closed his eyes at her touch, marveling in her proximity. “You - you are the one that’s beautiful,” he argued feebly.

She smiled gorgeously, her smile lighting up his entire world. “We can be beautiful together.”

He chuckled, so lost in her that a nuclear warhead could have gone off, and he’d barely notice. She was everything he had never thought to look for. She had come into his life like a whirlwind, uprooting and rearranging everything. She had become his muse, his inspiration, rekindling the fire that he once had for his craft. 

She completely changed his life. 

She was his more.

“Maks,” she whispered, rubbing his nose with hers in an Eskimo kiss.


“Kiss me.”

He grinned, enchanted. He cupped her face in his hands, and touched his lips to hers. Whimpering at his exquisite gentleness, she licked his bottom lip, his taste combining with the alcohol in her system to form a dangerous and exhilarating brew. He was her liberator, and her passion. He was a safe harbor in which she could lose herself, and just feel and be. 

From the moment he had entered her life, he had commandeered a hold on her heart that rippled throughout the rest of her life. He had made her face her flaws and insecurities, and in doing so, gave her freedom. She felt like a woman - confident, sexy, passionate. He saw things inside her that she never knew she had. 

He was her more. 

The kiss tempered off slowly, and she gazed up at him, her heart in her very eyes. “Take me home, Maksie” she murmured, scratching patterns into his hair. 

He nodded in agreement. “Of course." 

"But,” she looked up at him again, and he finally noticed that she had, in fact, gone a little green. “Baby, I think I wanna throw up." 

He chuckled, adoring her. 

"C'mon, honey,” he said, standing up and taking her hand to leave. “I’ll hold your hair back…" 

I had a crush on Angelina Johnson. She was gorgeously pretty, but in the I don’t care way. She is amazingly enthusiastic at quidditch, a passion she adores. She jokes around with Fred and George and is kind, but she can step up and take leadership, finding solutions to the ongoing problems. She is an amazing friend. Angelina will always have a place in my heart.

anonymous asked:

We need Andreja Bejic. As a Cast. Now.

YES. (btw spelling is Andreja Pejic). Not sure as who (too young to be Gabrielle, too feminine to be Lestat?), but yes, she is *~gorgeousness.~*

This was taken when she was Andrej, male model, so baring the nip-nop was ok. BUT EVEN IF YOU COVER THAT UP, DAMN, SUCH SMOLDER.

I loved the photoset this pic came from. It’s her and Erika Linder.

pssssssst…. #Fanart request. or #fanfic request. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.