#Hummings herbal

[justworlds]

Hummings herbal

This hummingbird feeder is a well-designed accent to any yard-a high value for a relatively low cost, making it our best overall option. This feeder is simple to clean, with a removable base and a wide opening that makes it easy to replenish the nectar chamber. Our testers noticed the food chamber doesn’t hold as much as other feeders, and despite their small size, hummingbirds eat quite a bit, so you’ll want to make sure you’re refilling the feeder regularly. The floral feeding ports and bright red color attracts birds, and the bee guards prevent insects and other creatures from stealing the nectar. The Perky-Pet Pinchwaist Hummingbird Feeder does exactly that, with an alluring design to draw in birds and features to make cleaning and refilling easier for you. What do buyers say? 80% of 9,800+ Amazon reviewers rated this product 4 stars or above.Ī hummingbird feeder should be easy to fill and clean, providing a functional and hospitable space for birds. Who else recommends it? Good Housekeeping and This Old House also picked the Perky-Pet Pinchwaist Hummingbird Feeder. The Spruce Home Improvement Review Board.Two shows available: 7PM and 9PM To purchase tickets, please click here.Third Tuesday of every month, with different featured poets each time, and a. A class designed for practitioners with "more life experience" (age 40/50+) that are interested in.This class is for children (ages 6 - 13yo) of all ability and fitness levels.This class is for pre-teens and teens of all ability and fitness levels, and will.School of Rock Watertown presents their Summer Season Show featuring bands from all different age groups through.School of Rock Watertown: Summer Season Show.Exhibition by Audrey Diallo Born in the nineteen-seventies in Berlin, Germany to an American mother.Audrey Diallo Exhibition Closing Reception.Jazz vocalist (and flute player) Rick Silberg holds a weekly residency in the Armory Cafe. .Each ticket includes a copy of Joe Trohman's book "None of this Rocks".Joe Trohman: None of this Rocks Book Tour.The Boston area has one of the most diverse information security ecosystems in the world.She also educates privately with individuals who are seeking a personal herbal approach to their health. She has been teaching herb classes for over three years now and finds that more interactive classes are more fun to teach. So whether you grow herbs for your health or to attract wildlife to your garden you can’t go wrong with all the benefits they bring Please always do your research and consult with your physician, naturopath, or health care provider before taking any home remedies or supplements or following any treatment suggested on this page. Handouts will be provided and everyone will go home with a small sample of what we make.Ībout the Instructor: Katherine Gekas is a graduate of two local herb schools: Boston School of Herbal Studies and the Commonwealth Center for Holistic Herbalism. We will also make an herbal product, a tooth powder, with the two herbs. The benefit of taking in each herb slowly is that your body can start to feel the effects and recognize the herbs as you learn more about them. NOTE: This class has been cancelled because it did not reach the minimum enrollment numbers.Ībout the Class: The class will cover in-depth discussions of two herbs: sage and horsetail. Students will get to taste (in teacups!), smell and feel each herb, and we’ll discuss the history of the traditional usage of each herb, modern usages, health benefits, and other effects.

[humofnight]

okay I rlly like the deodorant brand I use, like. A solid natural deodorant that actually controls smell

but this month they sent me lavender+basil instead of lavender by accident. And it’s v basil forward. And I am processing my armpits smelling like pesto for a month.

[suntoru]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ “YOU… CAN’T WALK?” *ੈ✩‧₊˚

summary: after a night of… suspicious activities, you find that your body is rendered useless!! how does your boyfriend react??

feat. diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, childe, kazuha kaedehara, scaramouche, xiao, ayato, al-haitham, kaveh

a/n: blue balled </3

warnings: heavily suggestive however no explicit smut, minors get tf out /lh <33, innuendos, fluff, mentions of “girlie” in childe’s, basically after aftercare

─ ✰ DILUC is highkey embarrassed about not being able to resist his urges, so much so that you’re in pain because of him. he apologizes profusely and is so guilty that he hurt you 😭😭 you’ll have to reassure him that you’re alright, but that you just need some extra help getting around today or for the next week. he’ll be your majestic horse for as long as you need him to. need to go to the bathroom? he’ll carry you to and from, waiting for you to be done outside of the door. hungry? he’s already got adelinde cooking something up for you. thirsty? he just bought thirty different flavours of herbal tea. he treats all the love bites he’s given you and iced the bruises on your legs, looking up for your reaction each time. a friend of yours asked why your legs were so shaky and you couldn’t walk, and his face exploded into a bright shade of red, making it obvious that your… nighttime activities were the cause.

─ ✰ KAEYA’S your knight in shining armour, although sometimes you may want to smack his head. oh, he’ll help you alright, but at the cost of your dignity. he’s carrying you bridal-style in his arms, which may sound wholesome, but the things he’s whispering in your ear are clearly not. turning bright red, you nuzzle your head further in his chest to prevent him from looking at you. cute. he chuckles at your reaction, pressing a soft kiss to your head before gently placing you in the bath. the warm water helps your muscles relax more, easing up the tension from your legs. you sigh in relief, sinking further into the bathtub as he scrubs the soap out of your hair. you shiver when he blows over your hickeys, deliberately trying to rile you up. this time, you won’t give him what he wants, though. you flip over on your side, turning away from him with what little self-respect you have left. but it all leaves your body when he leans in closer. “easy there princess, being a brat is what got you here in the first place.”

─ ✰ CHILDE, quite like his name suggests, is a literal child. you thought kaeya was bad? well, this giant man baby wants you to flaunt off your hickeys and bruises to the whole world, he wants everyone to know you’re his and his alone. his teasing is x10000 times stronger than normal, he has no basic decency 💀💀 will make you ask for his help to inflate his ego, at this point just get up and leave </3 when you try to angrily glare at him, it comes off as more of a sad pout, so he caves and scoops you up in his arms like a kid. “aww, is my favourite baby coochie coo girlie okay? don’t worry, daddy’s here-” please smack the living shit out of him, if you don’t he’ll continue to baby and coo at you for the rest of the day. don’t even try to complain to him about the marks, he’ll just add more until he’s satisfied 😬 oh, and one last piece of advice? don’t let him see you in his shirt unless you’re looking to get wrecked (again), he’ll go absolutely feral.

─ ✰ KAZUHA, let’s be real, would be so soft and loving that you wouldn’t have any bruises and i stand this with my life 😤 but for the purpose of the plot, let’s pretend he did. out of everyone, he’s the most delicate with you. he’s so gentle and careful carrying you like you could break at any moment, whispering one of his poems quietly and humming underneath his breath. if you’re hungry, he makes his specialty dish, spoon feeds you everything, even tipping the water cup up so you can drink from it. he gives you so much love and reassurance it makes your heart absolutely melt 🥺🥺 he kisses each mark he made on your body, whispering “beautiful” each time :,) a tear slips by your eye, never has anyone treated you with such care before him. he wipes it away and pulls you close, making sure not to hurt you accidentally, and utters endless sweet nothings. in his eyes, you are a perfect creation, and he can’t thank the heavens enough that you are his. his muse, his love, forever <3.

─ ✰ SCARAMOUCHE, this bitch, thinks you’re being dramatic when you say in a scratchy voice that you can’t walk. he tells you to just get over it, and when you get pissed and try to walk away from him, your legs fail you and you brace yourself for the impact, but it never comes. his arms are hooked above yours, effectively saving you from crashing down and causing further damage. you angrily yank your arm back, telling him to leave, but he only pulls you up closer into his arms. he wraps your legs around his hips as he holds your waist, cursing something under his breath. he places you onto the couch as you turn away from him in a huff. “are you just going to ignore me?” silence. “fine. be like that then.” silence again. “…i’m …sorry. i didn’t mean it.” you turn back around, and he’s squatting on the ground with his head twisted so you can’t see his face. he moves away quickly, flustered by your gaze, and leaves the room for a minute. when he comes back, he’s holding some warm tea for your throat. needless to say, he pampers you for the rest of the day.

─ ✰ XIAO thinks you’re seriously ill when you almost tumble out of bed and land smack dab on the floor. you’ll have to explain to him why your legs aren’t exactly working, and when he does… flustered beyond relief. when he takes a closer look at you, he notices your body is full of love marks and bruises around your thighs. in the moment, he may have forgotten how fragile humans could be. he thinks he’s broken you, and he’s genuinely concerned for you 💀 you might have to direct him on how to help you, but once he gets the hang of it, he’ll do the best he can. unlike how he wields his spear, he’s delicate and graceful. he might be rough around the edges, but he’s trying, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t need him to carry you for the rest of your life, not when he cocks his head and looks at you questioningly when you don’t climb on his back. as an apology for temporarily immobilizing you, he brings you a qingxing flower and shares his almond tofu with you. honestly, what more could you ask for 😻?

─ ✰ AYATO is actual husband material <33 he’s already prepared for this for some reason 🤨 as soon as you wake up, any punishments you may have received have been treated and wrapped up carefully. a fresh pitcher of water is there for you, and by the looks of it, a bath is running. but none of it interests you if ayato isn’t there with you. carefully, with the help of thoma, you are able to wobble to the room ayato is in, concentrated on his paperwork. hobbling towards him, he pushes his chair back so you can sit on his lap. pressing a kiss to your cheek, he brushes the hair out of your face, “darling, you should be resting. i ran a bath for you, is everything okay? are you sore anywhere?” “can you come join me? please?” you beg, putting on the cutest pout you can manage. “if you can wait ten minutes until i’m done.” internally, you sigh, but you patiently sit on his lap and wait until he’s finished. ah, but don’t worry, the reward is definitely worth it. he kneads through all the sore spots, applies all your skincare, and changes your clothes. later, you do matching face masks 💗

─ ✰ AL-HAITHAM was probably prepared for this, he read hundreds of books about human reproduction 💀 he notes all the side effects you seem to have: a scratchy throat, unstable legs, exhaustion… he saves it for the next time you have… physical activities. he remembers an article he read on how to take care of your significant other after intercourse, and follows that. he makes homemade soup to soothe your throat, which he watches over you as you drink. he also forces you to take naps, he’ll read “the control politicians have over our daily lives” just to make you fall asleep. he’ll get your groceries, take out your trash, and do your work so you can focus on relaxing, all with a stoic face. if anyone asks him where you are, he’ll just give an obvious lie with a straight face 💀💀 “y/n is out collecting a census right now.” “but they told me they were sick?” normally his lies are flawless, but when it’s about you… his mind doesn’t function properly. but if you absolutely need to get somewhere, you’re going to have to ask him. last time, he locked kaveh out of the dorm for 48 hours for helping you get a book from the library because he fell asleep 💀

─ ✰ KAVEH’S face is the first thing you see when you wake up. jumpscare warning sir he’s hovering over you, observing your face. immediately after he sees that you are awake comes the barrage of questions. “my love, are you all right? i wasn’t too rough, was i?” he’s such a simp i could never see him being rough he dramatically gasps when he sees your shaky legs, pretending to be shocked, but he’s slightly happy that this means you’ll have to cling onto him for the whole day. but oh my, both of you still have work!! whatever shall you do? it seems like the only solution is for him to take you everywhere… he proudly parades you around the akademiya, much to the embarrassment of you. but there’s nothing you can really do, not when you can’t run away, so you bury your head in his back to avoid the judging gazes of the other scholars. kaveh shoots a smug grin to an uncaring al haitham, who probably knows and heard everything from last night💀💀

©hawkssimpsblog 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[kissitbttr]

Miggy getting babied by his pregnant wife?

hiii! i hope you don’t mind, i changed it a bit because I don’t want it to look too much alike on the other one! this one’s short, enjoy! xx

-

being a mother to a 6 month old pregnancy bump isn’t easy. if it was, fathers could do it.

and that’s what miguel had been learning through it all. seeing your mood swings shift in a span of thirty seconds, constant cravings for ice creams, kebabs etc, snapping (directly at him and mostly at him), frequent backaches and fatigue. he’s very much impressed how an existence of a human being living inside of you could actually change you as a person.

still, doesn’t mean he loves you less.

“ugh, i’d give my left tit for a big plate of mofongos and a fat ass joint right now”

the two of you are cuddled up in the couch, watching some lame old american tv show that miguel seems to find enjoyable. you’re dressed in one of his t-shirt and grey sweatpants. ones that you had claimed as yours despite miguel’s protest.

your husband chuckles, pulling you closer by the shoulder. “lucky you, mami. i bought an extra before i came home just for you. i could heat it up for you later if you want.”

a dreamy sigh escape your lips, reaching out to kiss his cheek. “thanks papi. you’re the best. what about the joint?”

he snorts, head shaking as his eyes cast down to yours. “i don’t think weed is good for the baby.”

“says who?” you fake a gasp, pulling back slightly. “it’s literally herbal! unless it’s contaminated with tobacco. don’t we have a stash up in the closet?”

“you finished them all, ma. basically rolling those joints with your pretty fingers before this happened” he points at the bump. “usted es avaro, mi corazon. barely left some for me”

a smile pulls up into your mouth, head resting against his bare chest. hand interlocking with his. “remember when we were celebrating our one year anniversary and got high?”

“ay dios mio” he groans playfully, rolling his head back. “don’t remind me, baby”

“it was so fun” you ignore the embarrassment creeping into his cheeks, grinning even wider when he tries to hide it. “we went to taco bell after.”

“yeah and i threw it up because it tasted like shit”

you hum, nodding along. “and decided to get shawarmas and fries instead because we weren’t satisfied”

“one with the small food truck in 133th street” he confirms, his cheek against the crown of your hair. smiling at the memory. “i remember you told me not to get ones from across that italian place that you like because we need to support small business. had to stop you from crying too much because you kept saying how unfair it was for rich bastards to keep open up restaurants when they have shitty palate”

his comment makes you laugh hard. his grip around your hand tighten. some sort of pride blooms in his chest when he sees you laugh freely like that.

“oh god i remember!” as you slowly recover from the laugh. “we sat on the pavement after that right? you kept telling me how you want me to be the mother of your child.”

“damn, why do you keep recalling all the embarrassing things i did, huh?” he asks jokingly with a deep chuckle. now his attention isn’t even on the tv anymore.

“because it’s cute! you were so cute!” he shakes his head once more, biting down a shy smile as you shift your body weight to wrap your arms around his neck. “my miggy is so cute with the ‘i want you to be my wife, i want to get you pregnant, mi amor. say yes please, please, pleaseeeee’”

you continue to mock his actions back then, watching him cower down at the attempt of you trying to mimic his voice. strangely enough, you almost got it right.

he has his hands covered his face.“stop that, princesa! come onnnn”

you respond with a head shake as a ‘no’. “ay, papi don’t be shy” you giggle, trying to pry his hands off. “come on. let me see my hubby. let me see him”

miguel doesn’t budge for a while before peeking in-between his fingers like a little kid, then slowly peeling his hands away, jutting his lower lip forward.

you gasp, hand over your heart. “god damn! you can’t be walking around looking like that! can’t have all the girls falling for the sexiest man alive”

he rolls his eyes, smiling at your compliment. “stop being biased, baby!”

“i am not! how dare you calling the mother of your kid a liar, hm?” you tug him down, letting his head rest in between your neck and shoulder blade. “my baby daddy is sooo handsome. i won the fucking lottery.”

“definitely the other way around, love.” he disagrees, hand coming up to rest on your bump. “you stole my heart the moment you walked into my office that day. never thought in my life that a gorgeous architect made me get down on my knees and pray to the lord up there to let me have you.”

now that makes your heart skips a beat. how could you compete with that? he never fails to make you swoon even after years of being with him. it’s like the butterflies never stopped.

“hmm now you’re being biased, miggy”

“nope. i was so sure that i was in love with you.” he then turns to look up to you, tone becoming serious. “my god, you were the finest thing i have ever laid my eyes upon, mami. was literally bending over backwards to impress you. and now? seeing you swollen with my baby just made you ten times more gorgeous than before. you’re the love of my life, mi amor. and i will prove it to you for the rest of my life if i had to”

truly, you had never believe in luck or hope. it’s something that never sits well with you. odds never had been in your favor and you believed that for the longest time. you were fine being all alone. you have a job that pays you well, great condo, a body that you learned to adore, a loving mother. four things that you have always been so grateful for. you wouldn’t change a single thing.

but when miguel happened? everything in your life had changed for much better. from having to do everything on your own to ‘i got this one baby’. sure, you weren’t exactly comfortable with it at first, because you had never been the one who had asked for help.

yet you learned to love it all because of him,

with a grateful smile, you trace your fingertips across his soft lips. beautiful red eyes not leaving yours, as if he’s afraid that if he looks away for a second he would lose you completely,

“you’re the love of my life too, miguel”

-

don’t forget to reblog and comment babes!! xx

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Crazy For You was so good! Do you think you’ll continue it or write more similar to that?

Crazy For You Too || LN4

Summary: Just a little follow up the morning after part one ended. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, gaslighting, dub/con, dark themes WC: 1k Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

You woke the next morning feeling strangely groggy and hungover, like there was a laden cloud heavy in your mind. There was no way you were going to be able to go to work but you couldn’t find your phone to call your boss. You searched everywhere but it wasn’t where you usually left it. 

With no other option, you padded off down the hall to knock on Lando’s door. 

“Good morning, Mr Riley,” you greeted the elderly man as he approached from the elevator.

“Would you keep it down next time, some of us like to sleep,” he grumbled as he walked on to his door. “You kids and your violent video games. Up at all hours. No respect.”

“Good morning, baby.” Lando opened the door and narrowed his eyes at Mr Riley before he pulled you inside for a kiss, but you were still reeling from the telling off you had just received. Lando looked like he had a late night and just woken up since he was still wearing only his boxers and his hair was a mess on one side and flat on the other. “What was Carl’s problem?”

You shrugged, genuinely perplexed at the entire interaction. “I don’t know.”

He frowned but it was gone as quick as it came. “How did you sleep?”

You shifted on your feet as you rubbed your wrist subconsciously, the ache seemingly coming on overnight. “Not very well. I had a really bizarre dream,” you admitted quietly as you walked further into the apartment. “I’m actually not feeling too good, I was going to call in sick but I can’t find my phone.”

“You’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to your body,” he chuckled, handing his phone over. “Call from mine, love. Then we can go back to bed.”

Lando boiled the kettle while you called your boss, apologising for the late notice, but he was kind enough and told you to rest up. Sinking into the couch with a sigh, you placed the phone on the coffee table and dragged a blanket up over your body.

“Here, love, this will make you feel better,” Lando said as he passed you a steaming mug of herbal tea. You inhaled the aroma of lemon and ginger but there was a sweet scent that you couldn’t quite place. 

Taking a sip, you hummed as it soothed your sore throat and snuggled into Lando’s side. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Lando took the cup and placed it on the table. “It must have been something good,” he teased. His hand drifted up your thigh under the blanket and warmth spread across your skin in response. “How are you feeling?”

“Hot,” you replied honestly, the need to remove your clothes suddenly the most sensible thing you could think of. 

He grinned as he moved your trembling hands and pulled your shirt over your head before reaching for the button on your jeans. “Let me help you, baby.”

You moaned as the cool air kissed your skin but it still wasn’t enough. “I need you, Lan, please touch me.”

His eyes darkened as you fell back onto the couch, the blanket discarded so there was nothing hiding you from him. His mouth went dry and he licked his lips before he could use his voice, but still it sounded pained. “Where?”

You couldn’t think clearly with the fire blazing through you and you spread your legs in search of reprieve as you begged, “Everywhere.”

Lando’s lips eased the burning need in your core and his tongue chased away the fire that licked your skin. The room filled with the wanton sounds that erupted when he curled two fingers inside you and you buried your hands in his hair as you rolled your hips. 

One orgasm rolled into the next as the room spun around you, your quick breaths leaving you lightheaded. You didn’t even think about the consequences as you tugged Lando’s hair until he looked up to meet your eyes from where he lay at the juncture of your thighs. “I need you to fuck me right now, please…fuck, what is wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong, baby,” he soothed as he kissed his way up the length of your body before capturing your lips. He absorbed the cry of delight as he filled you in one stroke and the fleeting thought you had was lost when he started to roll his hips with long, slow thrusts. “I love you, god, you have no idea how much I love you, what I would do for you, for us.”

You barely understood his murmurings in your ear as your pleasure mounted and your nails found purchase in his back as you came. 

Finally, the fire began to smoulder and you could breathe again. It was unlike any fever you had ever had and left you exhausted as Lando lay with you along the couch, dragging the blanket back over you as if he knew you were suddenly feeling the cold. 

“Did you say you love me?” you asked as your heart returned to its normal rate, the whispers lingering in your fucked out brain. 

“No,” he chuckled as he kissed your shoulder and wrapped his arm around your waist. 

“Oh.” You felt foolish and your cheeks warmed with an entirely different heat as you started to sit up.

His arm tightened around you, keeping you flush to his naked body before you could escape. “But I’m fucking crazy for you, baby, of course I love you.”

A knot tied in your stomach at the confession but you put it down to the nervousness of admitting that you felt the same. You had never felt this way about a man and the way he treated you was unlike anyone before him. He spoiled you and took care of you, it was natural to fall for him. “I love you too.”

You felt his smile on your nape and his fingers tickled your sides as he drew abstract pictures on your skin. “So move in with me,” he whispered. “This can be us everyday.”

Click here for part three.

[em-prentiss]

I’ve got my eye on you

----

You’re really in no shape to be at work. Aaron coaxes you home.

Cw: fem!bau!reader, reader is on her period, newly established relationship, fluff, use of pet names, no use of yn

Wc: 1.9k

if you have any Aaron requests, lmk <3

----

Your stomach cramps again as you walk out of the elevator. Wincing, you hurry into the bullpen, desperate to sit down and ease the ache in your lower body. 

Morgan looks up at you as you dump your things on your desk and sit down with a sigh. 

“Twenty minutes late, princess,” he grins. “Late night?”

“Not today, Derek.” You stuff your face in your hands, the pounding in your head intensifying. Your voice is low, strained, nothing like the usual teasing tone you take up with him. 

Morgan immediately frowns in concern. “Hey, are you okay?” He leans over the divider between your desks and takes a closer look at you.

“Fine,” you mumble, your voice muffled. You lift your head and give him a weary smile. “Just tired from last night’s case.”

He nods and leaves you alone as you turn on your computer and sigh at the stack of paperwork ahead of you. Looking up out of habit, you smile at the sight of Aaron in his office, his head bent as he works on something. 

The two of you had your first date just before this previous case. He got you flowers, specifically ones that wouldn’t trigger your allergies, and when he told you that with a flustered smile you felt yourself fall impossibly deeper. You had kissed him to stop his rambling, threaded your fingers through his as he walked you to his car and opened the door for you. Like a gentleman, you’d thought giddily, your heart bursting at the image of him in your head perfectly meeting reality.

He got you ice cream after dinner, intimately aware of your sweet tooth, and you were left wondering if it was too soon to think about marriage.

It had been a perfect night, one that left you wanting for more of him just like this; funny and relaxed and soft. You’d wanted so badly to push him into your apartment, have him take off your dress and press his lips to your skin. But you forced yourself to say goodbye at the door, his chaste kiss sweet against your lips. You wanted to take it slow, to do it right. He wasn’t going to be a quick fuck for you and you wanted him to know that. 

Because you’re in love with him, have been for years. And you’re pretty damn sure he’s in love with you too.

You’re broken from your reverie when you hear Emily approaching, a steaming mug in her hands. You give her a questioning look when she sets down the mug on your desk, the light color of the liquid telling you it’s some kind of herbal tea instead of coffee.

“You’ve got that first day period look about you,” she whispers before you can ask. You smile and pick up the tea, taking a sip and feeling the scalding liquid burn all the way down.

“That bad, huh?” You close your eyes when Emily brushes your hair away from your forehead. Her short nails scratch soothingly against your scalp and you hum, resting your head lightly against her stomach. 

“You’re a little pale,” she murmurs. “Did you eat?”

You say nothing and bring the tea to your lips again, avoiding your friend’s gaze. 

“Typical,” Emily sighs—quite boldly of her, knowing she’s no different. “Hotch won’t be happy about that,” she teases softly, her lips turning up in a gentle smile. She may or may not have given you and Aaron the final push you both needed.

You shrug as your cheeks tint pink. “I’ll eat in a bit,” you say, in no hurry to do so with the way your stomach churns. “The pain really blocks my appetite.” You scrunch your nose. 

Emily hums, all too familiar with the feeling. “I’d tell you to take some meds, but you need to eat for that.” She strokes your hair soothingly, making you lean into her touch.

“I will, Em,” you smile up at her. “When my stomach settles. This is helping by the way, thanks.” You tilt your head to the mug you’re now holding against your stomach, the heat of it seeping through your shirt.

“You’re welcome,” Emily squeezes your shoulder and heads to her own desk. 

Sighing, you tip your head back and adjust your grip on the mug in your hands, wishing you had something for your thighs too. And your head. And your lower back. 

You give yourself a few seconds before you rub your eyes and sit up straight, trying to start on your report. 

The words blur on the page in front of you and you blink, trying to bring them back into focus. You sip your tea, hoping it’ll kick start your brain into writing something, but your head pounds incessantly, jumbling up the words in your head.

The next sip of tea brings a sudden nausea with it, the liquid sloshing around in your empty stomach with nothing else. You set it down with a grimace. 

Fucking great.

Morgan and Reid are bickering incessantly behind you, Emily clacks away at her computer and Anderson is talking louder than usual, his voice piercing your head. You blow out a breath and grab your pen, forcing yourself to ignore them and look at your paperwork. You squint at the paper, the bright fluorescent lights of the bullpen like needles in your eyes.

You give up and slump on your desk with a groan, welcoming the darkness and the cool wood against your forehead. You cross your arms tightly over your aching stomach, feeling the frustrating press of tears against your closed eyelids.

Aaron leaves his office in search of coffee and catches sight of you with your head on your desk, your hair shielding your face. Your back shudders as you inhale, the ragged rise and fall of it visible even from a distance.

He hurries down to you and gently touches your shoulder, your name falling softly from his mouth. You tilt your head up to look at him, too tired to lift it from the desk. “Aaron, hey.” You give him a worn out smile. 

Your hair falls into your face. Aaron gently brushes it away and notes your crossed arms held tightly against your stomach, your nails digging into your biceps.

“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly, eyeing your tired face and the bags under your eyes. “You look pale. Are you sick?” He presses the back of his hand against your forehead, but your skin is cool.

If the cramps weren’t currently tearing your body to shreds, you might have felt the butterflies at his obvious concern. “I’m not,” you say slowly, wetting your dry lips. “I’ll be fine, my head just hurts a bit.”

A bit is a gross oversimplification, and from the look on Aaron’s face, he knows it too. “Just your head?” He raises his brows, his eyes pointedly drifting down to your stomach.

A strange heat rises to your cheeks. “I’ll be fine, Aaron.” You insist as you lift yourself up against the chair. The light shines directly into your eyes and you wince, pressing your palm against your lids.

“Clearly,” he mutters, looking at your desk and the still empty paperwork and reports you have yet to fill out. “Go home. You can finish this tomorrow.”

“No,” you shake your head adamantly despite the roiling in your stomach. “I’m fine, I just—” You shut your eyes and blow out a shaky breath when you feel a sudden cramp in your abdomen, “I just need a minute.” You rasp.

Aaron eyes your dull skin and the way you tightly grip your seat, your knuckles sharp as you take in ragged breaths. He sighs and crouches down in front of you, the gentle way he says your name forcing your eyes open. 

“Please. Go home or I’ll drive you myself.” His brown eyes are soft with concern, his brows furrowed and lips tipped downward.

You want to shake your head, but a sharp pain in your stomach almost makes you gasp. You bite your lip and look down at your watch. “It’s only 11.” You protest weakly. 

Aaron shakes his head at your stubbornness, your pain clear in the way your face twists. “You’re in pain, sweetheart,” he whispers, unable to stop himself from saying it. Your eyes widen slightly at the nickname, but he continues, undeterred.

“Please. Go home, take care of yourself. You can be here first thing tomorrow, I promise, but you’re not well now.” He’s using the same soft, soothing tone he uses whenever Jack is sick and refusing his medication, and it seems to have the same effect on you.

You wilt against the seat and nod. “Okay,” you finally relent, the relief obvious in your voice. 

Aaron smiles slightly, dimples poking out in victory as he stands up. You don’t even have to pack anything, your purse still closed on your desk. You pocket your phone and stand, your hand reaching for Aaron’s elbow when you stumble slightly. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. 

“Shh, you’re okay,” he steadies you with a hand on your back. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

You don’t protest and allow him to walk you to the elevator. A part of you is surprised that he’s showing this side of him at work, uncaring of the team’s piercing gazes that you can feel following you all the way out of the bullpen. 

You lean into his side a little when you’re out of sight, the warmth of his hand on your back seeping into your skin as you wait for the elevator. 

You’re almost disappointed when it dings.

The doors open and you walk in with a quiet sigh. Aaron walks in with you too, ignoring your surprised look. You open your mouth to protest, but he speaks first.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay driving? I can take you,” he offers.

You smile. The thought does sound nice. But you shake your head, despite your aching body and the long drive ahead of you. And the crushing need to let him take care of you. “I’ll be fine.” You force yourself to say. “Thank you, though.”

Aaron nods. “Drive safe.” He smiles at you gently. “Text me when you get home.”

“I will.” Your fingers magically find their way into his hair. You push the soft strands away from his forehead, biting back a smile when he involuntarily leans into your touch.

His hand finds the curve of your waist. “Maybe I can come by later?” He whispers. 

You feel your body grow warm, a comforting glow that he always brings out in you. You smile, momentarily distracted from the pain in your body.

“I’d like that. But I won’t be much fun,” you gesture to yourself with a shrug. The elevator stops and the doors slide open into the parking lot. 

“That’s just nonsense,” Aaron tilts your face down to kiss your forehead, his palms warm on your cheeks. “Be careful, honey.” 

“I will.” You stamp a quick kiss on his lips, your cheeks warm, and head to your car. Aaron holds the elevator doors open and waits until you get in before heading again to the sixth floor.

He walks back into the bullpen, past his team gathered at Emily’s desk, including Garcia. They smirk at him and he glares back.

“Not a word.” 

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - unhealthy relationships, mentions of gore/human experimentation, forced marriage. written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Recently, all your mornings had started the same way: ten or so feet below the ground, buried under the satin sheets of an otherwise empty bed in a stone chamber decorated with all the love and tenderness of a hospital room, freshly cleaned after the death of its last occupant.

Blearily, you stumbled out of bed, grimacing at the feeling of the cold, rough floor against your bare feet. Temperatures in Snezhnaya rarely rose above freezing, and while your husband didn’t seem to mind the cold, you weren’t so resilient – shrugging on your heaviest robe before so much as opening your eyes. A mug of coffee was clumsily assembled in your minimalistic kitchenette (a feature you insisted on, after being forced to share a communal ice chest with one of his more dissection-focused segments), then a cup of tea; herbal and rich, a blend from Sumeru he had imported every few months. For as many years as you’d been with Zandik, you’d never been able to make sense of what he considered worth his time and what he disregarded as frivolous wastes of effort and mora. You supposed you could only be thankful you fell into the former group, lest your body be the next to adorn his vivisection table.

Once you’d managed to shake the chill and bring yourself to a state of near-consciousness, you stumbled out of your bedroom and into the corridor, ignoring the curious looks of young researchers and patrolling soldiers and shrugging open the steel door at the end of the hall. The smell of rot and preservatives hit you as soon as you stepped into Zandik’s personal laboratory, but your eyes only glazed over the dark puddles splattered across the floor, the amorphous mass covered with a white sheet and laid across a metal table before landing on your husband – slumped over his desk, his face buried in his arms and ink staining his fingertips, his left cheek. With a sigh, you made your way to his side, placing both mugs on the edge of his desk and resting your hands on his shoulders. Letting your eyes fall shut, you lowered yourself to his height, resting your lips against the top of his head and only pulling away when he began to stir.

He'd always been a light sleeper (in comparison to you, at least), and it’d never taken much to rouse him. You straightened your back and as if on cue, he bolted upward, gaze darting to the door, then his operation table, then you – where it would stay. A slight grin pulled at the corner of his lips as he pushed his chair away from his desk and tapped his leg, and without protest, you climbed into his lap; straddling his thighs and burying your face in the crook of his neck. One of his hands found its way to your hip while the other took to rubbing small, slow circles into your back. You waited for him to settle underneath you before breaking the silence. “I want to go home.”

Home, meaning the gothic, looming mansion you usually resided in when he wasn’t working out of one of the Fatui’s countless underground facilities or traveling abroad. It was also dark and drafty and a far cry from your previous home, the home he’d taken you away from the day he married you, but you’d been able to decorate it to your preferences and you didn’t need to go through ten of his soldiers just to step outside. He hummed, the sound passive and dismissive, and you frowned into his shoulder, nudging gently at his chest. “I’m serious, Zandik. Everything smells like blood and you haven’t come to bed in days. Being around all these chemicals is going to be the death of me – that is, if boredom doesn’t do the job first.”

Another hum, this one slightly more thoughtful. “You know I would pluck the stars from the sky for you,” he started, his voice still low and coarse with sleep. “But I am here on the Tsaritsa’s orders. Are you sure you’d have me test the good will of an archon for something so mundane?”

“Yes.” You’d seen him butcher orphans and burn villages to the ground. If he was still in his goddess’ good graces after so many centuries of relentless carnage, you were sure she wouldn’t mind a sudden relocation. “There’s nothing you do here that you couldn’t do in your own laboratory.” You thought for a moment, then added, “Unless you’ve decided that you love your archon more than you love me.”

His smile faltered, something possessive and pointed catching in his eyes. His grip on you tightened, but he recovered quickly, letting out an airy chuckle as he bowed his head and nuzzled mindlessly into the dip of your shoulder. “Two more weeks,” he promised. “Then, I’ll send you home – one way or another.”

“One more week.” You sat up, cupping his face and forcing him to meet your eyes. “Or I start spitting in your tea.”

“One more week if you start spitting in my tea.”

“You’re a vile, repugnant little man.” You leaned forward, kissing his cheek. “Deal.”

You spend the rest of that day lounging across the velvet-cushioned loveseat in the corner of his lab, skimming through your dozenth pulpy romance novel and watching your husband dismember corpses with a vigor you hadn’t seen since the first days of your marriage.

[elexaria]

könig stares at the bathroom door, wry blonde eyebrows furrowed as he hesitates, raising his knuckle close to the door. for a moment, he just stands and listens— hearing you hum quietly, the gentle splash of water blending in with the hearty laugh track coming from a cheesy sitcom playing in the background. the sound of your relaxed sighs and giggles make könig’s lips twitch ever so slightly, seemingly standing before the door for what feels like forever, just wanting to bottle up the moment and savour it all while he can, when he’s not away with blood on his hands.

a rasp to the door almost brings you out of it, blinking out of your relaxed state as you hesitantly reach over to pause the show playing on your laptop. “yeah?” you call out, cocking your head slightly to the side to listen for your fiancé’s voice.

“you doing okay in there, love?” he asks softly, the timber in his thick austrian accent sending a chill down your spine. his genuine and sincere concern warms your heart.

“yeah, why?”

“just… you’ve…” he begins to mumble, and you can basically hear himself smush his face against the door.

“huh? i can’t hear you—“

and he continues to mumble even more, which makes you roll your eyes with adoration.

“kö, just come in, honey— i don’t wanna talk through a door.”

the bathroom door slowly creaks open, könig’s scarred hands snaking their way around the other side as he looks away, blushing like a teenage boy as he shuffles his way inside the doorframe.

“i just…. you’ve been in there for a while, no? you are going to be … just … all wrinkly and full of water.” he furrows his eyebrows when you giggle, still bashful and yet so concerned for you. it’s so sweet how much he cares, even if it makes no sense.

you clear your throat, and when that doesn’t rouse his attention, you resort to snapping your fingers and whistling— something he genuinely dislikes. he grunts, still furrowing his eyebrows. his stony cold eyes glance right at you, although the twitch on his lips betrays the serious expression he aims to convey. it makes you grin ear to ear.

“it’s called a soak for a reason, you know that? besides, don’t you want me to be clean?” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows playfully as you lean against the bath tub, arms propped up. a few trails of warm water trickle onto the floor below, which makes könig twitch. he’s a massive neat freak.

“mmh..” he pauses, thinking as he considers your words carefully. without hesitation, he guffaws at the idea of you not bathing. “well… perhaps this soak is not so bad when you put it this way,..” könig mutters gently, strong arms crossed over his broad chest muscles as he leans back against the doorway.

for a moment, you can swear his eyes flicker down to your flushed skin, which makes you feel bashful and shy. you playfully splash water over at him, which makes him scowl playfully over the mess. “watch it, you.” he chuckles, glancing down at the mess before using the bath mat to clean up.

“well… alright. do you.. need anything? like a towel—“ he mutters to himself, eyeing up the three fluffy towels neatly propped up on the radiator. you think, before sighing as you recline back in the warm water, eyes closed.

“could you bring me some melon? and maybe a cup of herbal tea…”

“food? in the bath? alright, it’s time for you to get out.”

and without warning, könig delves his arms into the soapy water, grinning as you gasp and wriggle away from his hands, squealing happily as he teases you <3

[inkdrinkerworld]

adore your writing and spencer reid <<<333

all i can’t think about is knitter/crocheter reader who makes reid sweaters and cardigans and the first time she does it for him for his birthday. maybe reader works at the bau and manages to get to spencer’s desk early to leave the present for him, which is of course a gorgeous hand knit sweater<33

You and Spencer are a fresh thing. You were never a sure thing at the BAU, being brought in on a case need basis but even those short couple of days had drawn you and Spencer to each other.

Now, you’re almost six months into your relationship and his birthday is fast approaching. To deal with the stress of your job, you’d picked up crochet. A hobby to help you focus a little less on UnSubs and more on whatever you’re making.

You’re almost finished with Spencer’s birthday gift- a brand new sweater. It’s all the colours of autumn, browns and green, oranges and deep mauves. It’ll look great on him.

By the time his birthday rolls around, you’re weaving the ends in and wrapping it all pretty in brown paper with his name written in looping letters.

Everything else was planned out with the team, cake and lunch and even a little gift exchange but you want to give Spencer yours first.

It’s a rush to Quantico, there’s traffic and everyone is driving poorly and you’re panicking because Spencer is always five minutes early and you’re about ten minutes behind him.

In what you can only determine a change in luck and all of the gods on your side, you make it just in time to make a quick sprint in your heels no less to his desk to set the parcel down before he walks in behind you.

“Happy birthday, Spence!” You try for ease and an airy quality to your tone but it fails because you’re out of breath and nervous.

What if he hates it? Now you’re wondering if you got his measurements right- it’s always a gamble.

“Thank you,” he drops a kiss to your forehead and makes for the kitchen. “Did you have your coffee already? You seem wired.” He looks over his shoulder as he opens the fridge for milk.

You just shake your head. You’re trying not to wring your fingers to all hell as you watch Spencer set about making you both cups of coffee.

“There’s something on your desk,” again you try for a little ease, a little casualness but it falls very flat.

Especially when Spencer hums, a pretty smirk on his face. “Is there?”

“Spencer Reid, you can’t do that.” You stomp your foot a little and he laughs, reaching for you just as the kettle goes off.

“I can do anything, it’s my birthday.” You sigh and lean up to kiss his cheek.

“I suppose you can, but would you open it before the rest of the team get here? In case you hate it?”

He tuts, “You know I won’t.” Spencer sets both mugs on his desk, nudging you to have a sip and you frown when you realise it’s herbal tea and not the coffee you’d been hoping for. “Your hands have been shaking and cramping a lot more recently.”

You watch with eagerness as he opens the parcel, a smile breaking out on his face as he realises what it is.

“Do you like it?” You’re nibbling on your lip, ruining your pretty glossy lips.

“Think it would be too much to put it on now?” Your eyes brighten and you squeal.

“Would you really?” Spencer nods, hands already reaching for his blazer to strip.

It’s bad luck that’s just when Morgan and Emily stroll in, a low whistle sounding in the room.

“Oh okay, pretty boy, I see you!” Derek says and Emily laughs while Spencer, even after all the things he’s lived, flushes.

You on the other hand, roll your eyes.

“You know, you could’ve saved it for after the ‘happy birthday’.” Derek only shakes his head.

“I don’t think I need to wish him one if he’s willing to risk an HR meeting.”

Spencer kisses you smack on the mouth which is only fuel to the fire. “I’ll wear it tonight angel, thank you.”

You’re a little dazed and Spencer seems to relish that fact. “You’re welcome, Spence.”

[tteokdoroki]

imagine silently vibing in the kitchen with katsuki bakugou.

you help yourself up into the counter, dressed in nothing but his shirt (haphazardly thrown on after spending all day kissing and getting nasty in bed) and a pair of fuzzy socks because he’d told you the apartment was cold since he runs warm and you need to keep your feet warm.

the kettle rumbles loud and proud beside you while katsuki gets the mugs from the top shelf. you’d made them together on your sixth or seventh date — a pottery painting class. bakugou’s is a creamy shade of Orange, like the sun setting outside the kitchen window, warm on your back. and yours is a soft pink, like the blush that dusts his cheeks from being caught staring. staring at you.

you let him make you some kind of herbal tea. watching bakugou grab the tea bags from another cupboard. this time, you’re the one staring, eyes caught on the motion of his back muscles rippling before cascading down to his unfairly slender waist, his grey sweat pants that hang a little too low on his itty bitty hips, and the rough textured skin on his side. the battle scar you love so much.

“what flavour?”

you hear him mumble, your gaze that was once tethered to the eighth wonder of the world (his phenomenally beautiful body) shoots up to bakugou’s face. a lazy smirk lies on the plump edge of his lips and compliments the his chiselled features illuminated by golden hour outside. you see the sun reflect off the brownish flecks to his gorgeous ruby eyes and the soft tint of blonde to his hair (you make a mental note to thank mitsuki for this later), before mirroring his smile.

“peach.”

to people on the outside of your lovey little bubble — there’s nothing significant about your choice of tea. but to you and katsuki, you know that it’s the same flavour as the lip glaze you wore on the night he first kissed you. it’s the scent of your body wash, the one that you leave at his place because you know that bakugou adores peaches on you. peaches, like the fruits you cut up for him whenever you’re able to join him for lunch at the agency, swiping your thumb over his chin as the juices run down it — sucking it off with an affectionate laugh.

“sweet,” bakugou hums into the quiet ambience of the kitchen. “just like you.”

his hands, though capable of intangible levels of destruction, work delicately and quickly to brew you the perfect cup of peach herbal tea. before you can even ask, he sweetens your cup with a tea spoon of brown sugar and a dash of golden honey — pushing it towards you gently. with a loving whispered reminder. ‘careful, it’s hot.’

katsuki waits for you to take a sip before he does the same with his own. he won’t admit to how cute you look on his counter, in his apartment, in his clothes with his marks on your neck, glittering under the setting sun. his bare feet pad on the vinyl flooring as he crosses the kitchen to meet you and his chest bristles with happiness when your legs part to make room for him.

“good?”

“always,” you chirp, looking up at kastuki through your lashes with your big bambi eyes. “i love you.”

katsuki looks taken aback but quickly recovers, rubbing his cheek on his bare shoulder as if to rid himself of the heat rising underneath its skin.

“love you even more. now drink up b’fore it gets cold.” he says gruffly but he’s lovesick all the same. you think that bakugou is so cute, you might implode.

and there you are, vibing out in the quietness of his kitchen — clinking your misshapen mugs together and drinking tea, letting the world go by as if you’re the only two people in it.

[wineauntie]

A HARD DAY’S NIGHT — Luke Hughes x book lover!reader

summary: After a tough loss, Luke is in desperate need of comfort, but it just so happens that he knows exactly where to find it.

note: soft Luke Hughes is my kryptonite

warnings: nothing really just pure, teeth-rotting fluff! use of names y/n, pretty girl, sweet girl and babe.

word count: 1.6K+

apart of this universe, but can be read as a standalone!

You bit your lip nervously as you triple-checked the final game score, wincing at the sight of the heavy loss the Devils had taken. Despite giving it their all, the other team had pulled ahead by a whopping six points. You leaned against the kitchen counter of your apartment, your battered copy of Dracula lying across the surface whilst you waited for Luke to show up. More often than not, Luke would end up at your apartment after games, especially if they went badly or not as expected. He claimed your apartment felt more like home, and who were you to deny him of that?

You'd gotten the text after the game, telling you he'd be home in just under forty minutes, leaving you time to clean up around the place, make yourself some tea, and start making dinner for the two of you. You always liked to cook, it calmed your anxiety and gave you something to focus on. The soft hum of Fleetwood Mac filled the room's silence as you moved to stir your classic chicken, spinach & bacon alfredo pasta.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of unease as you glanced at the clock, each tick feeling like an eternity. Finally, the sound of keys jangling outside the door signalled Luke's arrival. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for his mood. You looked towards the door as it creaked open, revealing Luke's tired figure, shoulders slumped and hockey bag dragging behind him.

"Hey," you greeted softly, mustering a smile despite the heavy atmosphere. Luke's eyes met yours, exhaustion evident in their depths as he tried to muster a smile for you.

"Hey," he replied, his voice heavy with defeat as he dropped his bag by the door. You didn't have to say or hear another word before you moved closer, wrapping your arms around him in a comforting embrace.

"Tough game?" you asked gently, already knowing the answer but wanting to offer him a chance to vent. Luke sighed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he hunched to lean into your comforting touch.

"Yeah, it was brutal. Nothing seemed to go our way tonight," he admitted through a voice muffled by your hair, his frustration palpable. You ran your fingers through his curls soothingly, letting him unload his frustrations in the safety of your embrace.

"Well, you're home now," you reassured him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "And dinner's almost ready. How about we eat and forget about it for tonight?" Luke managed a small smile, the weight of the game lifting slightly at your words.

"Sounds perfect," he murmured, slowly pulling away from you before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You hummed, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed, his nose brushing yours whilst he melted against you. As you broke apart, you laced your hand with his and led him to the table. As you both sat, you silently vowed to do everything in your power to lift his spirits and make him forget about the loss, if only for a little while.

The two of you ate in a comfortable quiet, the odd conversation being made as you recounted your evening from the moment Luke had left to the present. You'd been given the day off from work, which allowed you to bask in the solace of your books and the endless streams of herbal teas.

After the meal and a few shared jokes, you noticed Luke's demeanour starting to lighten. As you cleared the dishes together, a sense of warmth enveloped the room, drawing you closer to each other.

"Do you want to go take a shower?" you suggested, a warm smile playing on your lips as Luke wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin propped up on your shoulder.

Luke's eyes lit up with the idea. "That sounds perfect," he agreed, his voice soft and grateful before his face dropped slightly. "...will you come with me?

You turned in the embrace, your thumb caressing his cheek. "Of course," you nodded, taking his hand in yours as you brought him towards the bathroom. The two of you slowly undressed one another, stripping off articles of clothing piece by piece, with Luke kissing as much exposed skin of yours as possible.

The sound of running water filled the bathroom as you stepped into the shower together. The warm cascade of water washed away the tension of the day, leaving only a sense of peace and closeness between you, Luke keeping a loose arm around you. With gentle hands, you washed away the remnants of the game, soothing away any lingering disappointment with each tender touch.

The water trailed down both of your bare bodies as you hummed a melody you'd heard earlier, your hands dragging a suds-filled washcloth across Luke's chest, whilst his eyes fluttered open and closed, basking in the warmth surrounding him.

You had stayed wrapped up in his hold until he'd eventually pulled away and with a contented sigh, he turned off the faucet and held out his hand to help you step out of the shower. The bathroom air felt cool against your damp skin as you reached for fluffy towels, wrapping them around yourselves in a cocoon of heat. Luke's eyes met yours through the foggy condensation that gathered in the room, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Together, you dried each other off, the simple act infused with tenderness and affection and once dry, you made your way back to the bedroom, hand in hand, the soft carpet welcoming your bare feet.

In the quiet of the bedroom, you dropped Luke's hand to rummage through drawers, pulling out two new sets of pyjamas. You handed a pair to Luke before changing into the pants and T-shirt you'd picked out for yourself. You adjusted your T-shirt before rubbing your arms, now littered with goosebumps.

"Here," you spun to face Luke, who held out one of his grey hoodies that you loved, one which he'd had tried to pry from you on various occasions. Luke had a soft, but tired smile across his face as he helped you to pull it over your head.

"Thanks," you stood on your toes and pressed a kiss to his lips as you relished in the comfort and familiarity of Luke's hoodie. "TV and downtime?"

"Sounds perfect, sweet girl," he spoke quietly as he held the bedroom door open for you to slip through to the living room. You skipped ahead, grabbing your abandoned copy of Dracula from the kitchen counter before collapsing onto the couch. You lay sprawled across the couch, furrowing into the pillows as Luke finally joined you. He held your water bottle in his hands, passing it to you before he flopped on top of you.

His body was like a weighted blanket on top of yours as he pulled his hoodie's hood over his head and rested fully against you. Your fingers crept beneath his hood, running your hand through his curls whilst he lazily turned on the TV, flicking through channels before settling on his age-old favourite "Secretariat", you let a small smile grace your face, as he dropped the remote and relaxed into your open arms.

You waited a few minutes before opening your book with one hand, the other still deep in Luke's hair, your fingers massaging his scalp as he focused on the movie. You melted into the familiar comfort of the moment, the weight of Luke's presence grounding you. As the movie played in the background, you lost yourself in the pages of Dracula, the words transporting you to a world far removed from the stresses of the day. Luke's steady breathing against your chest created a soothing rhythm, lulling you into a state of peaceful contentment.

Outside, the city buzzed with its own rhythm, but within the walls of your apartment, time seemed to slow down, wrapping you both in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. You stole glances at Luke from over the pages of your book, admiring the way the soft glow of the TV illuminated his features, casting gentle shadows across his face.

Your hand reached down so that your thumb could lovingly caress your sleepy boy's cheek. Luke stirred, his arm tightening around you instinctively as he murmured something unintelligible, his voice muffled by the fabric of his hoodie.

As the movie played on and the night deepened, Luke's gaze drifted from the screen to you. He watched as you turned another page of your book, your lips curved into a soft smile that illuminated the room in a way the TV screen couldn't.

He couldn't help but admire the way your smile seemed to chase away the shadows of the day, filling the space between you with warmth and affection. It was a smile that had the power to calm his restless mind and ease the weight of his worries.

"God, I love your smile," Luke murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up from your book, meeting his gaze with a curious expression. "What's that?" you asked, your smile widening at the sight of his adoring gaze.

Luke shook his head slightly, a tender smile playing on his lips. "Nothing," he replied softly. As you hummed questioningly, Luke stirred beside you, his voice deep and low, reverberating through your body, spreading chills down your spine.

"Hey, babe?" he murmured, his tone heavy with drowsiness as he lifted his head to look up at you.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for always being here for me,"

Heat rose to your cheeks as you brushed a loose strand of hair away from his face. "Always, Luke." You answered, your heart swelled at his words, a rush of warmth flooding through you. You reached out, cupping his cheek with your hand as you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. That's what I'm here for."

He reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too," you whispered back, feeling the weight of his love settle over you like a warm blanket.

WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN I BEG YOU!

[humofnight]

I’m gonna learn to like tea through sheer force of will

[pucksandpower]

grid kids : y/n having super bad periods like bedridden and seb try’s to tell the boys they can’t visit and they go into full like code red crisis mode

Grid Kids: The Best Medicine

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids do everything they can think of to make you feel better

Series Masterlist

Max enters the room gingerly, holding a steaming mug of herbal tea. “I googled it,” he whispers to Charles, who’s setting up a little essential oil diffuser on the bedside table. “This should help.”

Charles nods, looking at the variety of oils he’s brought. “Lavender for relaxation,” he explains.

From the other side of the room, Lando and George carry in an enormous heating pad. “This helped my sister,” Lando mutters, plugging it in, while George adjusts the settings.

Lance, a bit out of his depth but wanting to contribute, tentatively offers a stack of magazines and books. “For ... distractions?”

Mick, who’s been quietly observing, pulls out a small speaker from his bag. “How about some calming music? Always helps to set a soothing environment.”

While this orchestrated chaos unfolds, you, despite your pain, can’t help but be touched by the outpouring of care and concern. You try to sit up but the discomfort is evident.

“Hey,” Sebastian gently admonishes, propping you up with more pillows, “Let them fuss over you. They want to.”

As evening falls, the room is transformed into a comforting sanctuary. The soft glow from fairy lights, the gentle hum of calming tunes, and the subtle scent of lavender fills the room.

Feeling a bit better from all the care, you whisper, “Thank you, boys. But you don’t have to stick around, you know.”

Lando pulls a funny face, “And miss out on a sleepover? No way.”

One by one, the grid kids, following Lando’s lead, find a comfy spot on your enormous bed, cocooning you protectively in the center. Some snuggled at the foot, some propped against the headboard, and others squished in the middle.

With the soft chirping of crickets outside and the rhythmic breathing of your sons on all sides, you drift into a peaceful sleep, pain momentarily forgotten in favor of burrowing deeper into the love and warmth surrounding you.

***

The morning sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. you stir, the pain still present but noticeably diminished. As your eyes flutter open, you’re greeted by the endearing sight of the grid kids sprawled all around you, each in varying poses of sleep.

Sebastian, having given up his spot on the bed last night, is asleep in the armchair, a book resting on his chest. George and Lando, squished up at the foot of the bed, are tangled in a mess of limbs, while Charles seems to have created a makeshift fort for himself with every pillow he could find.

The aroma of breakfast wafts into the room, pulling you from your thoughts. Mick, having woken up earlier, stands in the doorway with a tray. “Morning! Thought you might be hungry,” he says, a smile touching his lips.

“Oh, Mick,” you murmur, touched by the gesture. “You didn’t have to.”

He sets the tray on your lap, revealing a spread of toast with bacon and eggs, fresh fruit, and some yogurt. “We all pitched in. Well, mostly Max and Lance. They seem to think they’re on MasterChef or something.”

Laughter ripples through the room as the others start to wake, each stretching and yawning. Max, rubbing his eyes, adds, “Hey, those scrambled eggs were a work of art!”

Lance chimes in, “Don’t forget about the smoothie. That was my masterpiece.”

George, trying to subtly smooth out his bed head, quirks a brow. “If we’re being all domestic, how about a spa day? Right here, right now.”

Charles, still nestled in his pillow fort, chuckles. “In this room? With all of us? I’m sure that will end well.”

Max’s eyes light up, “I’m in! But only if someone does that cucumber thing on my eyes.”

Mick grins, “You mean a cucumber facial? I’ve got you covered.” He dashes out, only to return moments later with a stash of beauty products. “My sister left these the last time she visited. We’ve got masks, scrubs, the works!”

Amused and touched by the turn of events, you announce, “Alright then, let the spa day commence!”

Sebastian, skeptical but game, adds, “I’ve never had a mani-pedi before.”

Lando winks, “There’s a first time for everything, Seb. Give me your hands.”

As Lando starts on Sebastian while Lance gets to work on making more of his famed smoothies for everyone. Meanwhile, George and Charles, having taken over the facial department, start applying face masks, complete with cucumber slices for the eyes.

An hour later, the room is a delightful mess. Mick and Max have somehow managed to get more face mask on their shirts than on their faces. Lando’s meticulous nail painting skills are in high demand, and George is draped over the foot of the bed, a bright green face mask contrasting comically with his hair.

You, through bouts of laughter, look around at the delightful chaos. “Alright, time for the big question. Do you or do you not feel bonita?”

Lance, his fingers spread out to dry the bright pink nail polish Lando chose, grins. “I feel bonita.”

Charles, attempting to peel off his dried mask, replies with a dramatic flair, “I was born bonita but now? I’m radiant!”

Mick chimes in, “Can’t see through these cucumber slices but I’m pretty sure I’m the most bonita of all.”

The room fills with banter, laughter, and the gentle ribbing that only close friends and family can share. As the day turns into evening, the spa treatments wind down and the room settles into a comfortable quiet.

You, heart full, look around at the makeshift spa and the joy it brought. “Thank you, boys. Today was unexpected but absolutely perfect.”

Sebastian, his nails now adorned with a clear glossy finish, adds, “I think we should make this a tradition. Spa day before every race.”

Max raises his own freshly manicured hand. “All in favor?”

A chorus of “Ayes!” fills the room and so a new tradition was born.

[moonstruckme]

hi mae! i’ve recently become obsessed with herbal teas and i noticed you have mentioned chamomile and jasmine tea in your fics lol. i am wondering if you would be interested in writing a remus or poly!marauders fic with an american reader who loves herbal teas and they kinda tease her about it (in a loving way of course)? i love your fics and i hope you have a lovely day whenever you read this <3

I love herbal teas! I fully support this obsession honey. Thank you for requesting!

cw: british slander, i love y'all but i'm besmirching your brand <3 (based largely on my own experiences lol, so perhaps not fully accurate)

Remus Lupin x american!reader ♡ 614 words

“This is so disappointing,” you sigh at the sight of Remus’ cabinet. 

“What?” he asks from the couch. 

“You told me you had tea.” 

“I do have tea.” 

“No, you only have this.” You take the box of Yorkshire Tea out of the cabinet, brandishing it where Remus can see. “This shit is nasty. Rubbish, as your folk say.” 

“Oh,” he laughs, “so you sail all the way across the ocean, take our teas with you, denounce our government, and then come back here to criticize, is that it?” 

You look at him darkly. “This is what the Boston tea party was really about. I get it now.” 

Remus beckons you toward the couch. You go, abandoning the boiling kettle since apparently there’s no point in searching the kitchen for anything good to drink. It’s only once you sit down on the couch and he takes your hand into his lap that you realize your mistake. 

Remus has a mollifying effect on you. It’s tragic, really. All it takes is a look, a shift in his tone, a small touch like this, and you’re pliant and boneless for him. 

“What sort of teas do you prefer?” he asks you softly, tracing the lines of your palm.

“I usually keep a variety,” you tell him, matching his tone. “Like cinnamon, or passionflower, or rooibos…have you heard of any of those?” 

Remus smiles, slow and sweet. “I have. Would you like whipped cream and sprinkles on those as well?” 

You laugh, rolling your eyes. You try to take your hand back, but Remus holds fast (you don’t make it hard for him), grinning at you. 

“That is so not fair. Just because y’all like your tea bland—”

“Say that one more time for me? Who all?” 

“—doesn’t mean my tastes are somehow unrefined.” You fix him with a hard stare, though your smile is untamable. “You’re being posh.”

Remus looks amused. “Never been accused of that one before,” he says. 

“Have you ever tried jasmine tea with a little bit of sweet creamer in it?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Remus, you’re really missing out.” 

“Alright.” He stands, taking your hand with him and giving it a tug when you don’t follow. “C’mon, up.” 

“Where are we going?”

“To make you a cuppa.” 

You giggle. “I can’t take you seriously when you call it that.” 

“Once you stop saying dude, we can talk about my diction.” 

“So mean,” you tsk, letting him pull you over in front of the kitchen counter. He pours the hot water from the kettle into a mug, placing a tea bag in it. 

“We’ll get this drinkable for you, love, don’t worry,” Remus murmurs, waiting until the tea is a deep brown before going to the fridge. He pours in heaps of milk and sugar, stirring with a look of mild distaste in his expression. “Alright, try.” 

You take the mug off the counter warily, blowing on it before putting it to your lips. 

You hum, and Remus lifts an eyebrow. 

“It’s…better.” 

“I’ve done my best,” he chuckles, taking it from you. “I’ve thrown all my principles and better sense out the window, and it’s still not up to your standards, hm?” 

“No, it’s not bad.” You steal the mug back, taking another sip and smacking your tongue against the roof of your mouth experimentally. “It’ll do.” 

Remus gives you an indulgent look. “I’m sure we can find you some jasmine tea if that’s what you want,” he offers. 

You shrug. “I was just at the grocery store, and I didn’t see any.” 

He tilts his head skyward, blowing out a long-suffering breath. “I think you mean the grocery, sweetheart.”

[mncxbe]

pls pls pls can i pls ask for a part 3 of taking a bath with them ??? maybe with fyodor nikolai and sigma ??? i LOVED the other two parts you made , they are amazing !

TYSM I'm so happy to hear that and yes of course I'll make a DoA part. I romanticized Fyodor so much oh my I loved writing his part. Hope you enjoy dear♡ also tysm for 150 followers love you guys

Taking a bath with them♡ p3

𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓, 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂, 𝑵𝒊𝒌𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff/ slight smut♡

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: mentions of drowning in Nikolai's part but it's silly

𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓

due to his occupation he has to change hideouts/ houses quite often so y'all always use your tub.

not a big fan of bubbles but enjoys herbal scented oils

due to his anemia Fyodor can't handle really hot baths so the water is lukewarm most of the times

he's usually the one who pampers you, but after a harsh day he may let you wash his back and hair (let's be honest he needs it)

play some classical music, light a candle and brew him a cup of tea and he's all yours for the rest of the night

may not show it all the time but he's so grateful for spending time like this with you

It was around 10 p.m and you were getting ready to sleep when you heard a faint knock on your door.

"Yes?" you asked quietly as not to disturb the neighbours; the walls in your apartment building tended to be quite thin.

"It's me, my love" spoke the man from the other side.

You immediately unlocked the door and let your boyfriend inside, throwing your arms around his neck. "I missed you so much Fedya" you said in a sweet voice, gaining a chuckle from him.

Fyodor caressed the small of your back with his gloved hands, gently squeezing the plush of your hips "There, there darling. Thanks for letting me in."

"Of course"

You stepped away from him, giving him space to undress. Watching him stuggle to untie his shoelaces and hang his hoat, you couldn't help but notice how exhausted he looked.

"Tough day at work?" you asked, raising a brow.

"Yes, my love." he confessed, trying to keep his composure. Fyodor was still in the process of learning to be vulnerable around you so he tried to keep up appearances most of the time. Yet, he could not fool you.

"Would you like me to fix a bath for us? It'll help you wind down a little."

"That would be most wonderful, my dearest." he nodded, trying to suppress the smile that rose to his lips.

"Alright. Just give me a moment."

Around twenty minutes later the bath was finally ready. You had filled the tub to the brim with tepid water and threw in a few drops of his favourite essential oils: wintergreen and sweet orange.

"Mm it smells amazing sweetheart" he stated as he entered the bathroom. A slight smirk made his way to his lips when he saw you in the tub. "But I may love the sight of you even more"

He quickly took off his clothes and joined you, silently enjoying the pink tint that stained your cheeks.

After a few minutes in the water Fyodor started getting sleepy so he let his head fall back and closed his eyes. The sweet fragrance of the oils was soothing his senses and the water was just warm enough to relax his tense muscles.

He suddenly opened his eyes when he felt you shift closer to him. "Come on, Fedya, let me wash your hair."

Normally he would refuse, but considering his state he couldn't muster up the energy to say no. He simply turned his back to you, relishing the feeling of your lithe fingers gently massaging his scalp; at some point you started slowly humming a familiar melody. His shoulders jolted faintly at the sound of your voice.

"Ah, дорогая. I didn't know you liked Tchaikovsky."

"Well, I'm starting to enjoy classical music. I wonder why." you teased, placing a kiss on his cheek. You quickly rinsed off the shampoo and conditioned his hair before washing his back and shoulders. Tonight, your boyfriend was more quiet than usual but you didn't mind it; simply having him by your side again was enough.

"And you're all done" you informed him as you washed away the remainings of soap. "Ready to go to bed now?"

Fyodor nodded and got up, wrapping a towl around himself. "Thank you, my dearest." he said as he helped you out of the tub "I cherish you with all my heart."

"It's really nothing, мой любимый." you replied, struggling to pronounce the foreign words correctly.

Your partner chuckled and gently stroked your head; his violet eyes were gleaming with pride. "I see you're also learning Russian. Я горжусь тобой"

"Er... I didn't get that far yet." you babbled shyly, tucking a loose strand of hair behing your ear. Fyodor's lips curled into a smile.

"I said I'm proud of you~"

Once you were in bed your partner's arms snaked around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. He thanked you again for sharing this moment with him and showed his gratitude by leaving a trail of feathery kisses along your neck.

"Mm Fedya let's go sleep. It's late" you whispered, attempting to conceal the hint of desire in your voice.

"All right, my love. But I'd like to ask you one more thing before." he chuckled lightly

"What is it?"

"Sing me some more next time we do this."

𝑵𝒊𝒌𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒊

this man's bathroom is full of mirrors you cannot change my mind; the floor has those black and white tiles and the tub is in the middle of the room

doesn't mind bubble baths but he has a strange fascination for bath bombs

he is so handsy oml

every five minutes he's like "Riddle me this, dove" and begins to tell you all sorts of silly riddles

performs magic tricks for you if you ask him

"Kolya... I think that's enough". For the past ten minutes you've been watching your lover throw bath bomb after bath bomb in your square shaped tub.

"Nah one more dove I promise I'll be done." He spoke the words in his usual perky voice, without averting his gaze from the fizzy bubbles that rose to the surface. The water was coloured in a hue of pink, red and purple, resembling the twilight sky.

"Alright dove, hop in" he finally said before sliding in the ceramic tub.

You carefully slipped out of the silk robe that you were wearing and joined your boyfriend; as you were about to seat yourself, he swiftly hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap, deliberately pressing you against his pelvis.

"Oh take care pretty girl. You're going to get me all riled up" he snickered, running his fingers up and down your thigh.

"Aha so it's my fault now" you teased, narrowing your eyes at him.

He flashed you a suggestive smile before resting his chin on your shoulder; your eyes started darting around the room. No matter how many times you took a bath in Nikolai's bathroom you could never get used to the eerie atmosphere: the walls were covered in mirrors, making you lose the sense of space.

The biggest mystery was the source of light; the room was dimly lit, the golden light seeminly coming from the mirrors themselves.

"A magician doesn't reveal his tricks, dove" stated your partner whenever you asked him about the strange luminescence.

This time was no different. The feeling of nervousness was starting to take over you, your heart beating faster. The sudden change in your demeanour caused your partner to giggle.

"Aww is my little dove getting anxious? Now we can't have that let me help you relax a little"

His lithe digits gently squeeze the upper part of your thigh, moving closer to your core. You tried to seize his wrist but he stopped you.

"Nuh uh dolly. Be good and stay still for me, will you?" he purred, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Your cheeks began to bloom with colour at his daring words, but you laid back against his chest.

"Good" he chuckle, resuming his movements. His thumb brushed over your clit, gaining a soft moan from you. Nikolai's ministrations continued for a couple of minutes, his needy hands not leaving any part of you untouched; his lips trailed along your neck, leaving lovebites and sweet kisses.

Your tense muscles slowly began to relax, every tender touch leaving you yearning for more. Your breath hitched when his digits finally slid along your folds, lightly parting them before...

"That's about enough, my dove. You're going to get all wrinkly if we don't get out of the water."

"Nah, just a few more minutes please" you whined, drawing his hand close to your core again.

"Look how impatient you are now, how cute. I'll give you more when we get to bed" he cooed, gently pinching your cheek.

You still insisted on staying a few more minutes, just to spite him; but he ultimately agreed.

"I'm surprised you agreed to take a bath with me again. Considering what happened last time..." he eventually said

"What? Oh yea you tried to drown me in this fizzy water."

"Yes, I did" he snickered as he placed his index finger under your chin and made you face him. "But you know why I stopped?"

You shook your head, holding his loving gaze; his eyes bore a shadow of longing.

"Well, my little dove, I decided to be selfish for once in my life. I figured that loving you in captivity is better than hoping that our dead souls will be bound for all eternity."

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂

it takes a while to convince him to bathe with you, but he'll do whatever it takes to please you

has both a regular tub and a jacuzzi in his casino

he treats you like a queen and blushes so hard when he sees you naked for the first time

Sigma doesn't have much free time so the baths don't usually last long, but he makes the most of that time

lets you wash and braid his hair and is incredibly fond of lavender and vanilla scented candles

You liked the sky casino: with its glitz and sophisticated night life. Seemingly a pretty normal place during the day, the casino turned into an airborne Sin City at night. The crystal chandeliers were all gleaming, music was roaring, drinks were poured and guests wearing glamorous garments walked the hallways of the gambling house till the sun came up.

But what you loved most about the casino was its manager. You don't remember exactly when the two of you got this close, but Sigma was now one of the people you cherished most in life. He was a caring boyfriend and although he didn't have much free time on his hands he always managed to spend a couple of hours with you every day.

Tonight he prepared a bath for the two of you. When you entered the bathroom adjoining your bedroom, you were instantly struck by the light scent of lavender.

Sigma was crouching next to the tub, testing the water.

"Hey honey" you chuckled "What are you doing?"

His head snapped towards you at the sound of your voice. "Oh, hi Y/N. I got a bath ready for us. Will you join me?"

He extended a hand for you and, before taking it, you quickly stripped off your cocktail dress and tip toed to him. Although you were still wearing your lingerie, your boyfriend's face turned a pretty shade of pink. He carefully twirled you around once, admiring your figure.

"Gorgeous as ever, darling" he smiled as he briefly pulled you into a hug. "Now get in the tub before the water turns cold, okay?"

You stepped out of your undergarments while he took off his clothes and soon you were both immersed in the scented water.

The night sky was visible through the large window of the bathroom; it was tinged an inky black, like the depths of the sea. The stars always appeared washed out from the ground, but up here they gleamed like sapphires.

You ran your fingers through Sigma's silky hair, gently separating it into strands.

"What are you doing back there?" he asked playfully, trying to turn to face you.

"Stay still, hon. I'm just braiding your hair."

You entwined his white and lilac curls, forming a beautiful pattern. During this time your partner was anxiously checking his clock.

"Do you need to leave already?" you asked in an understanding tone.

"Not yet. But some important guests will be arriving tomorrow at noon and I haven't managed to learn anything about them yet."

"Oh don't worry darling. You'll do great"

"I suppose..." he muttered.

After finishing his last braid, you spun him around so that you were facing each other. Your arms snaked around his neck and you pressed his forehead against yours.

"Listen to me, love. You're incredible at your job but you work too much. Take some time to relax, ok? You deserve it more than anyone."

You spoke tenderly, placing feathery kisses all over his face. Sigma's hands grabbed the plush of your hips, pulling your body closer to his and kissed you. He wasn't usually the one to initiate such saccharine affections, so his boldness took you by surprise. Nevetheless you indulged him, your manicured nails languidly grazing the back of his neck.

Your partner deepened the kiss as a response to your actions and tugged you impossibly close to him. Whenever Sigma kissed you, you saw the starry sky behind your closed eyes.

The tender moment was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Sir?" spoke a man in meek voice "I know you've specifically requested not to be disturbed tonight, but you are needed in the game room. There's been a misunderstanding between two players."

"I'll be there in a moment" Sigma responded, trying his best to conceal the annoyance in his voice. The steps of the valet soon faded in the distance.

"I'm sorry I have to go so soon, love. I promise I'll make it up to you"

"There's no need, my angel." you hummed "I'll wait for you in bed, okay?"

He nodded eagerly before stepping out of the tub; you watched him dry himself with the white towels you kept under the sink and hurriedly put on his clothes. His heels clicked against the tiled floor as he made his way to the door.

"See you soon!" he chimed, closing the door with a thud.

After your partner had left, your gaze turned once again to the infinite blackness beyond the window. Then and there, your realized that you were in face a night sky too; and your lover was the multitude of stars that made you shine bright like a diamond.

[risuola]

▶ EARLY MORNINGS AND STOLEN CUPS — nothing better than the first cup of coffee in the morning.

contents: college!au, roommates, smoking implied (like once), teeth rotting fluff — 0,5k words

a/n: i can't tell you guys how much i love fluffs with this trio. i like how the dynamics are building and i think you guys enjoy it too (i hope so!) — anyway, very short entry but love medley is all about those after all!

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

Satoru doesn’t drink coffee.

Most days in your little apartment began with the low, monotone whooshing of coffee machine. Harsh rumble of beans being grinded accompany you and Gojo in the bathroom and while you both push through brushing teeth and mandatory eyedrops, Suguru usually was already in the kitchen, brewing the god’s nectar.

You joined the brunette, tempted by the gurgling bubbles and divine aroma mingling with the fresh air and a ghost of herbal, woody scent of whatever Geto was smoking just moments ago. He greeted you with a smile, playing with the rim of an empty cup — his fingers followed the curved ceramic edge and you knew he was as impatient as you were, as eager to dip his mouth into the brown wake-up liquid and feel the first dose of caffeine fill in his system.

And so, he pulled the jug from underneath the working mechanism, hot drops of coffee sizzled as they met the steel drip tray, but the cup was soon filled and before you knew it, Suguru let out a deep sigh of ecstatic relief. First few sips were his — black and bitter — and he made place in the cup for your milk.

You took out some plates — an act of pretending, a distraction for yourself to not eye the precious coffee like an animal would eye its prey.

Then, he gave it to you and your grabby hands enveloped the cup as he reached into the fridge for the carton of milk. As he poured it in, you inhaled the addicting aroma, watching how the dark, nearly black liquid turned into more luscious, creamier nectar in a light brown color and you too sighed deeply when dipping your lips into it.

You felt the heat spreading across your system and you disconnected for a moment, allowing yourself to feel it, to enjoy it while Suguru engaged in the talk with Satoru. The chattering that for a moment turned into background to your experience, soon pulled you in and before you knew it, you were talking too — a routine of babbling before the day fully starts, one that you enjoyed equally as much as late evenings.

A pair of arms wrapped around you and quiet hum filled in your ears. Satoru’s light, fluffy hair tickled the side of your neck as he hid his face in the crook of your shoulder — a habit of him, whenever he was still too sleepy to function properly. You put down the cup and reached up to run your fingers through the snowy locks, earning yourself a low purr that vibrated through the bone of your shoulder.

Engulfed in the story about new guitar strings and stolen picks, you absorbed the passion in Suguru’s voice and didn’t realize a sequence of mischief that was happening right under your nose.

And then, Satoru was leaving towards the living room, a cup half-full of your coffee in his hand as he sing-sang something about nail polish and sunglasses. You looked after him and then at the counter, where a bottle of sugary syrup in the flavor of caramel stood proudly — evidence of severe addiction and theft.

You let out a chuckle and Suguru echoed, reaching up the cabinet for another mug. He continued his story as the coffee machine brewed the dark beverage so that both you and him can enjoy it fully.

Yes, Satoru doesn’t drink coffee.

Unless it’s yours.

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